Curtains
by Rochelle Allison
Summary: Sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, they won't love you back. Or maybe they just can't... right now. This is the WitFit plot "Curtains", novella-style.
1. Chapter 1

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_for angel._

_because i admire her and her writing and i could not say no. ever._

* * *

Gently, these ivory curtains lift and lower, silent in the steady breeze. Because I don't sleep, I watch them, every night, every morning, studying the play of outside light as it filters in. I know the time of night-and-day better than any mountain man, traveler, wanderer or astronomer.

Always so silent here, the opposite of my room, where the inkyblack sucks out all color and I have no curtains but boring blinds, and I must close the window tight because the neighbor's dog never _ever_ stops barking and the street light glares belligerently inside.

None of that keeps me up-there is insomnia regardless-but it rattles my nerves and so I shut the window to keep it all out. And then because it's pointless I leave, even though every night I decide I will forgo calling Edward, asking him to meet me at the end of the street for a ride to his house.

Every night I determine to stay home and every night I decide to leave.

Here, in Edward's naturally hued bedroom, cream and tan and beige and wood, it's dreamy (though I can't dream) and sweet (although his refusal to touch me is bitter).

He shifts, and the mattress sinks in places and the sheets rustle and I hold my breath, wondering if maybe now he'll by-mistake touch me, even a graze of fingertips, but he doesn't. Even in his sleep he is cautious, and I exhale disappointment.

Used to this, but still.

I wonder how he'd feel if he knew I stayed up all night, monitoring his sleep? Enchanted by the way his curtains dance languid, ripples and billows like the sail of a pirate ship or the hips of a belly dancer? Would he ask me to leave or drive me home? Would he roll his eyes and roll over, the way he did the very first night when I mistook his kindness for something more and grabbed his hand in innocent invitation?

My father would be a purple shade of heartbreak and murderousness if he knew I spent every night in this boy's bed. The fact that these curtains are balm for my soul, or that Edward is strictly hands-off, would mean nothing to him.

When the ivory curtains glow lilac and the faintest birdsong tickles at the edges of dawn, I toe him awake, and he brings me back to the end of my bleary street and barefoot I climb the mature oak – sturdy and steadfast and strategic outside my bedroom window. I tumble into my cold, unused sheets and then, _only then_, I'm somnolent enough to pass out.

My father raps sharply but respectfully at my bedroom door an hour or so later and I drag myself out of the now-warm blankets, drunk from sleep and thirsty for more. If there was a way – any other way – to achieve rest, I would gladly snatch it. But as it is, I have nothing.

Sixteen hours from now I can return to Edward's room, to my curtains, and our nighttime ritual of which he is not aware.


	2. Chapter 2

All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

Yawning, I swung my legs up into Edward's cool sheets, shivering because autumn had started making chilly the outside air. Sometimes I'd see faint tinges of red blushing the tips of the still mostlygreen leaves, and there would be an absence clouds in the sky; no, not one, because it was getting cold.

Edward was reading. He licked his finger absently and turned the page, the crisp crinkle of paper the only sound in the room. I kept meaning to bring books with me but the purpose I came was to rest, not read, and so I never brought anything but myself.

"What?" he murmured, his eyes scanning the page.

"What?" I echoed, scooting down further beneath the blankets.

"You're watching me," he noted, still reading. Or pretending to.

"I'm not."

"You are," he said, irritation and finality coloring his tone.

"Why do you even bring me here?" I asked, trying to keep desperation out of my own voice.

"Why do you ask me to?" he countered, looking darkly amused.

"I-I don't know," I sighed. "I sleep better."

"I hope so," he snorted.

"Forget it," I whispered, tearing the blankets off and getting quickly to my feet. I dragged my sweater back on and toed my flip flops on to my feet, mired in silent self-deprecation for not having worn better shoes.

"What, you're walking home?" he mocked. "At this time?"

"You're an ass," I said, squeezing back the warm gush of tears behind my eyelids. "Sometimes I hate you."

"You don't know me well enough to hate me," he said, not moving from his spot.

Ignoring that, I walked right out of his bedroom, angry but quiet, passing his parent's and sister's rooms. Down the hall and then the stairs, across the foyer and out the door, mentally willing him to come after me, to chase me, bring me back.

Thirty two minutes later I entered my yard, chilled to the bone and more tired than I'd been in a while.

I refused to cry, though.

Charlie's early morning wakeup call went unheeded and I rolled over instead, exhausted and lackluster. He came back when I didn't come out, slowly coming inside my room.

"Bella?"

"Not today, Dad. I'm not feeling too good."

He cleared his throat, ruffling my hair, awkwardly affectionate. "Okay, I'll let the school know."

"Thanks," I mumbled into my pillow.

A few minutes later the house shook with the force of the front door closing. I listened as Charlie's cruiser started and left the driveway before settling into an uneasy sleep.

My cell phone's incessant ringing woke me up.

"Hello?" I croaked.

"Can you let me in? It's raining," Edward said through static.

Thinking I should have just let him freeze, I pulled a bigger t shirt on over my pajamas so my nipples wouldn't be poking through and went downstairs.

"What?" I asked, scowling.

"What?" he repeated, frowning. "What's wrong with you? Why weren't you at school?"

"Why do you even care?"

"I care, just not the way you care," he shrugged.

"I'm sick," I turned my back on him and went to the kitchen for some coffee.

"You can't come over tonight then," he said. "We have the big game tomorrow and I don't want to get sick."

"Thanks a lot," I muttered. "I don't want to come anyway."

"Thought you couldn't sleep here," he said.

I shrugged, stirring creamer into my coffee.

"Ask the cowboy," he said, already halfway out my door again.

"What?" I was so frigging sick of his cryptic crap.

"My neighbor, Jasper Hale."

"Ask him what?" I snapped, following him out to my porch.

"To pick you up later."

"I don't even know him," I retorted, wondering why I was still talking to this idiot.

"You hardly know me," he smirked, sliding into the front seat of his car.

I wished I didn't know him at all.


	3. Chapter 3

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

* * *

Edward and I became aware of one another the summer after eighth grade. We lived on opposite ends of town; he went to a private school while I'd gone to public my whole life. My older sister Rose met his older brother Emmett at a bonfire one night, and were inseparable from the get-go.

I was used to everyone's fascination with Rose. She was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, and to make matters worse, she was the best sister I ever could have asked for. I wanted to hate her; I resented her kindness, her penchant for helping and loving and compassion and care. She was like a lioness; fierce and loyal and protective…but cuddly to the ones she loved. especially me.

Emmett was beautiful too, golden inside and out. I knew he had a brother and a younger sister, but I didn't meet them until the muggy August night Em and Rose went out and never came home. Our parents called theirs around three in the morning; Rose's curfew was one thirty and she'd never shirked that so something was obviously wrong.

They were right.

Emmett's black pick up truck was discovered on the side of the road, keys in the ignition, Rose's Vera Bradley purse emptied on to the passenger seat.

Search parties looked for days and nights and then more days, but my sister was never found and neither was Edward's brother. All of the jealousy I'd felt, the resentment because she'd loved me and was so damn saintly that she actually understood why I felt the way I did…it all just folded back in on me, squeezing me til I felt I couldn't breathe.

Around November, my mother admitted to having lost her bearings and moved out. She and Charlie didn't even break up; they got together quite often…but she couldn't stand to be in the house she'd been in when Rose had gone missing and my father couldn't bear to leave. I was left in the middle, not here and not there, feeling forgotten and lost myself.

Being a police officer and the father of a missing girl, Charlie was so consumed in the case he forgot he had another daughter. Every day I came home to an empty house, often times eating dinner alone.

I met Edward and Alice during those days, days and nights and more days tainted with desperation and devastation where everything was dark and ugly and my stomach always ached. Vicious imaginations of what could have happened to my too-pretty sister looped cruelly through my mind, taunting me and worrying me, giving me nightmares until I lost the ability to sleep well.

If Rose had been the prettiest girl, then Edward was easily the most gorgeous boy I had ever seen in real life. He was so alarmingly handsome that it stung; I hated myself for noticing his looks when both of our families were falling apart, dissolving in grief and loss. He was polite enough if not a little dead in the eyes, walking around empty.

Alice, while teary-eyed and heartbroken, explained that Edward had worshiped their eldest brother and was taking his disappearance worst of all.

He was, she said, a fraction of his former self.

One night when Charlie was talking with the Cullens in their kitchen I wandered aimlessly by Edward's room, nervous and confused by my feelings when his scent wafted cleanly out. He sat at his desk, absently rolling what looked like a baseball bat of a joint. He heard my muted gasp and waved me in, asking me to lock the door behind me.

After he smoked most of his joint he became calm and introspective, and very honest. He confided that he's always loved Rosalie, from the moment Em had brought her home, he'd had a crush. I became uncomfortable as I sat there while he waxed romantic, stupid and stoned and describing Rose's perfection.

I didn't see him for about a year and then he came to Fork's High. He'd flunked out of the private academy he'd attended for ninth grade and was now slumming it with the rest of us. Having the bond that we did, we were instantly attracted to one another, but I realized quickly that it was different for him than it was for me. When I shared with him that sleep had been evading me he invited me over to spend the night, sensing that an absent mother, a workaholic father and a probably dead sister had left me both lonely and alone.

Giddy for the first time in forever, I shaved and made sure I smelled nice, vibrating with anticipation as I shimmied down the tree and across the street, where his car idled, waiting for me in the shadows. At his house, he changed into pajamas and we crept beneath the covers, easy as pie.

I reached for his hand, a friendly gesture…one I could have easily explained away due to our unfortunate connection….but he saw right through me, frowning before rolling his eyes…and then rolling over, away from me.

My fractured heart broke a little more that night and continued to erode, every night. His bedroom at least soothed me well enough, although sleep still refused to have anything to do me, and I became used to Edward's lack of interest.

Even when his attitude toward me grew downright cold and distant and he began to subtly antagonize me I stayed, accepting the small source of comfort I found in his bed, with his flowy curtains and his silent trees outside.


	4. Chapter 4

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

* * *

The water is lukewarm now, but I'm too languid and lazy to reach over and turn the hot water on again. Instead I scoot my butt forward more so I can submerge more of my body, nothing but shiny, wet terrain of my knees and breasts and face above water.

Edward's house has the bed and the curtains but mine has the perfect bathtub, the only place I truly enjoy being alone.

If I was suicidal maybe this would be the place I'd choose for The End but I'm not; it's impossible to be that depressed when you're sort of just … frozen inside.

Hot baths help with this; they tend to thaw even the most frigid of moods. I feel human, more of myself after long baths.

The peace never lasts, however.

My phone rings from the opposite side of the bathroom and I ease onto my water-wrinkled feet, remnants of suds sliding down my stomach. Digging the stopper out of the drain with my toes, I reach for my towel and step judiciously onto the bathmat, taking my time. If the phone stops and starts again, it's Edward.

Probably.

I've wrapped my needs-a-haircut long hair into my towel and am strolling naked to my room when it starts ringing in my hand.

"Hello."

"Why aren't you picking up?"

"I just did pick up," I answer dryly.

"Why weren't you before?"

"I was in the bathtub."

"You still could have answered…"

"What is it, Edward?" I sigh, not in the mood.

Up until…last week? – his voice made my stomach flip-flop. Now it just makes me tense and anxious, a weird feeling of dread settling over me.

It reminds me of how I felt when they first went missing.

"Are you still sick?" he asks.

"I never was sick."

"Why'd you say you were?"

"I'm sick _of you_," I pause, catching sight of myself in the mirror on the back of my bedroom door.

I have a nice body. I wonder why Edward never noticed.

"You're a bitch," he says calmly.

I press end on the phone and toss it onto my bed, where it starts to ring in earnest. It stops after several minutes and I exhale in relief. Ringing phones really stress me out, but I refuse to just turn it off. He doesn't get to have that kind of control over me.

Later, at the supermarket, I run into Alice.

"Bella," she smiles, sincerely happy to see me.

I'm happy to see her too; I really, really love her and I miss hanging out with her.

My visits to the Cullen household weren't always at midnight and limited to Edward's room. I'd end up there, but I'd also spend time with Alice, in her room, talking. The more infatuated with her brother I became, though, the less interested I was in chitchat.

I regret that.

We begin walking, our shopping carts side by side and gleaming in the harsh artificial light."How have you been?" she says.

"Okay," I shrug, not needing to sugarcoat. If anyone, Alice understands completely. "You?"

Her face warms into a bright smile and she tilts her head. "I met someone actually… he goes to your school."

"Who?"

"Jasper Hale…"

That name rings a bell. "The cowboy?" I say, without thinking.

Her grin disappears. "Did Edward say something?"

I wince, grabbing her hands. "No! I mean, nothing bad. He just… mentioned him. He told me to call him actually, but I didn't know who he was."

"He's such a jerk," Alice sneers. "He doesn't think I should date him, so of course he'd try and pawn him off on you…"

"Forget him; he's miserable and sad and pathetic," I say, shaking my head. "I'm glad for you, though. I'll look for Jasper at school."

"You can't miss him," she laughs. We're in the cereal aisle now. "He doesn't wear a cowboy hat or anything, but he is kind of a cowboy."

Picking up one box of cereal for my father and another for myself I walk silently beside Alice, listening as she talks in her soft voice. Sometimes it's soothing just to listen.

"You should come over," she says, stopping her cart.

"Definitely not. I think I hate your brother."

"Really?" she asks, a quizzical expression on her face. "I actually thought you had a thing for him."

"I did. But he's a weirdo. He's sweet one second and a giant ass the next."

She nods. "Well, that sucks. Maybe I can come over to you."

"I'd like that," I say, and we hug goodbye.

That was nice, I think, loading groceries into my truck. Normal. I feel like a normal teenage girl.

My phone rings again and against my better judgment, I answer it.

"Yes, Edward."

"I'm sorry I called you a bitch," he says. "You're not a bitch."

"I know," I nod, turning the key in the ignition.


	5. Chapter 5

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

* * *

Boots over sneakers today, because it's not just a cold ache of a day, it's raining too.

I can handle the temperature dropping; it's the addition of rain I can't stand. Give me cold dry or warm wet but not this.

"You eat yet, Edward?" My mother steps into the foyer, where I'm pulling on a jacket.

"Yeah, Mom. I'm set," I say. She's the one constant in my life – her and dad - her smile is like a balm for the wounded. I'll marry someone like her one day, when I get out of this bitch of a town, away from the dull and mediocre and same.

Which doesn't say a whole lot about me, because I was born here too.

"Stay warm," she says, hugging me lightly, running her fingers briefly through my hair. "Oh, I invited Bella and her father over for dinner, 'kay? Remind her at school."

My eyes shut on their own accord, because that's just not what I'm in the mood to deal with today.

Damn it.

"Yeah, okay," I say evenly. It's important to maintain until I graduate. She imagines improvements in my attitude, thinks I'm well on the road to healing, but I've just gotten better at controlling my emotions, blocking out pain.

Easier to

smoke it

snort it

sleep it

screw it away.

My car is freezing and now my hair is wet and I shake it furiously once inside, scattering droplets, heat on blast. A text vibrates the phone in my pocket and I slip it out as I start down the driveway.

Tanya.

Smile, because I expected this.

I turn left instead of right, and drive to her house to pick her up. She must have been watching from the window because no sooner do I arrive she's hurrying down the walk and into my car, wearing a skirt for God's sake.

A skirt? In this weather?

But she's gorgeous, and a sure thing later on, so I just say hey when she says hi and keep one eye on her goosebumped legs and one on the road.

"Lunch time?" she says by way of goodbye when we part ways by my locker.

"Yep," I nod, watching her ass for just a second after she turns and walks away, the class president cheerleader queen bee, all set to reign another day at Forks High.

Retrieving my books for first and second period, I glance down the crowded hallway right in time to see Mike Newton whisper something into Bella's ear.

Shaking my head, I laugh a little. Guess I should've seen that coming.

Even from where I stand, I can see her blushing and laughing at whatever he's saying, his finger touching the sliver of skin above her jeans. She peeks up and sees me, and I look away.

I don't need to give her any reason to connect with me, not anymore.

It's weird, our relationship. She's pretty enough, but she's no Rosalie.

Vivid and sharp, I remember the night Emmett brought the eldest Swan girl home to meet the family. I nearly came in my pants at the sight of her: soft looking blonde hair, long and leading to her ass, the most perfect tits I'd ever seen, her nipples barely visible even through her bra and sweater. I hid a boner most of the night, excusing myself early from dinner so I could whack off in the shower before bed.

They stayed together for quite some time, and we got to know her the same way her family got to know Emmett. I knew she had a little sister; she mentioned her a lot, and I knew she thought it would be cute if we hooked up, but I wasn't interested.

When she and Em disappeared, things fell apart in our house for awhile, but obviously not as bad as it did at the Swan's. I did meet Rosalie's little sister Bella, though not the way Rose had wanted us to meet… nonetheless we met and had horrible things in common and when I saw how alone she was I took her in. We got along easy - she wasn't like the majority of girls around school; I craved closeness without attraction and I sensed we could be that way maybe.

We were cool until the first night I brought her to bed.

She tried to hold my hand, and while it could have been for comfort, it wasn't. I took one look at her, hope and desire seeping from her eyes like tears and it was so obvious she wanted me.

Like gaudy neon letters flashing above her head.

I put up with it for years, letting her like me even though she knew I didn't feel the same way. I treated her all right, even though I never quite let her in, and even though her weakness vaguely irritated me. When all was said and done what pissed me off most was that she liked me _so much_ that she'd come over, every night, just to subject herself to all this unrequited bullshit. I didn't understand her. If she put up with that, what else would she put up with?

Over time I figured she'd have to improve, pull it together, but she never did. It's was like she was even more frozen than I was – stagnant and waiting for _what_?

I still don't understand her.

I can't even say I wish I felt different, because I don't.

Like I said, she's no Rosalie.

Side by side in biology, because I take care of her and she was too freaked out in the beginning of the school year to be paired with anyone else, we ignore each other again.

At least she's stopped with the moony eyes. In fact, she kind of hates me now.

She'll get over it. We're linked whether either of us likes it or not.

"Mom said to remind you about dinner tonight," I say, tapping my pencil to drum beats in my head.

"Okay," she sniffs, concentrating on her doodling.

I roll my eyes, trying to rein in my irritation at her phony nonchalance.

Her hair smells good.

She should have a boyfriend. Maybe if she hadn't spent all those years pretending to be asleep in my bed she'd have one by now. Maybe it'll be Mike, even though he's a dumb prick. Bella can probably do better.

Lunch. Tanya finds me before I even have my stuff back in my locker. Her cheeks are slightly pink, like she's been outside in the cold… or thinking dirty thoughts, I imagine.

I touch my fingers to hers; they're warm, so she hasn't been outside.

Dirty thoughts it is.

"Ready?" I ask. She nods, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she falls in step with me.

She knows not to try and hold on to me, but it's obvious to anyone who bothers to look we're together -for the day, at least. We pass by her freshly exed-boyfriend, Riley, the quarterback to my running back on the school's football team. He glares, I smirk.

After fooling around in my car and promises to bring her to my bedroom in the nighttime, I go to study hall.

Bella treats Alice the same way she always has, and it's glaringly obvious during dinner.

She's still snubbing me, and it's getting old.

I wanted to be close to her, just not sexually. If the situation were reversed I'd be labeled a dick.

Maybe she is a bitch after all.

After dinner but before dessert I slip away, intent on getting Tanya into my bed before it gets late. I have practice tomorrow and I don't need to be over tired.

She's all coy smiles and carefully casual sex appeal, in pajamas that will look better on my floor than her body. Cautiously I park, not wanting to deal with my mother…or anyone else.

"They're still up?" Tanya asks, freaked out.

"It's nine o'clock," I say, leading her to the door. "We can get upstairs without anyone seeing us."

"Oh, great," she frowns.

"Or I could bring you back home," I offer, trying not to sound as impatient as I feel.

I want to remind her that she was the one chasing my dick, not the other way around.

"No, it's okay," she says quickly.

Right.

My parents are predictable, in a really good, familiar, warm sort of way, so they're right where I knew they'd be, having apple pie and coffee with Bailey's Irish Cream...or something ridiculous... with our guests in the living room.

Tanya and I walk right up the stairs and into my room. Within ten minutes I have her naked and underneath me.

"Shh," I warn, when her little moans and groans become not so little.

She bites my pillow, and that's kind of hot, but it's silly too.

She feels good, but sex always feels good. The only bad sex is no sex.

We're all over the place, in different positions because I like to hold off coming too fast. Her head dangles just off the side of my bed as I pound into her tight little body and then something makes me look up.

Bella stands in the crack of my doorway, watching like a pervert. She knows I see her, she must; I'm looking right at her as she looks right at me.

So I don't stop.

Screwing Tanya or watching Bella.


	6. Chapter 6

_All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**this is already written & will be updated every morning & every night.**

**

* * *

**

Last night's rainfall leaves puddles everywhere, especially here in the parking lot where potholes are a dime a dozen. It's still overcast, and the small scoops of water reflect blindly back at me as look into them, careful to sidestep and avoid.

I can't handle soaked sneakers today.

Mike Newton meets me at my locker. He does this every morning now, and I don't know if he wants to get into my pants or if he genuinely likes me. Either is fine by me; he's attractive enough that he doesn't repulse me. He was shirtless a lot last summer at the beach, which was stupid because it was often chilly and overcast, and while his ego was a little off putting but his body certainly was not.

He looked good then and he looks good now, his eyes bright and blue and sort of crinkly as he smirks down at me, his dimples deepening when his fingertips on my cheek make me blush.

Closing my locker with a firm click, I glance up at him."I have Spanish now."

"I know; I'll walk you," he says, jerking his thumb in the direction we'll be going.

"Okay." We start to walk and I half-listen to him complain about something that happened yesterday on the field.

"Lunch?" he asks, leaning against the doorjamb of my classroom.

"Yeah, I'll see you then," I nod, starting to turn.

"No, I mean…" he hesitates, lifting his chin slightly in what I think he thinks is a sexy face. I guess it is, kind of. "Do you wanna… you know…"

"Since that's the thing to do," I say, remembering Edward and Tanya a few days before, parading down the hall and out the double doors at lunch time.

He frowns and then smiles, shrugging lightly and glancing at my boobs.

"Okay," I agree, patting his shoulder before going to my seat.

It's weird, agreeing to stuff like this with people like that.

Weird because Mike wants me and I feel barely anything, maybe a little sexually frustrated and in need of a release. Weird because Edward never did like me back and my feelings for him were tiny embers constantly burning in my heart, singeing me from the inside out.

Mike is not my first kiss.

My first kiss was freshman year, with Tyler Crowley during truth or dare. Then there was this kid Jake, who I met at a party and kissed because we were both drunk. I kind of liked him, but I never saw him again.

There's hardly any room in Mike's car and he's leaning over me really awkwardly, trying to pull me closer. After a few seconds of that he grunts and lifts me up onto his lap. The new position hurts my knees because I have to keep them so bent in this cramped space, but whatever.

We make out for awhile, and eventually I stop thinking about the chips and nectarine in my locker. His kisses are nice, and I'm horny, so when he unzips my jeans and tries to wiggle his finger inside them I let him. He won't get very far anyway; like I said… there's no room.

But then he scoots over and lays me on the backseat and yanks my jeans down a little bit. He licks at my neck and fiddles around beneath my panties till I come. Then he wipes his hand on his jeans, which is disgusting, and pulls my pants back up.

He sits there, smugness and satisfaction smeared all over his face.

"Thanks," I fake-smile, retying my ponytail.

"What're you doing later?" he says, touching himself through his jeans.

I crawl to the front seat so I don't have to see what he's doing. "Homework."

"Yeah… I have practice," he says, dropping into the driver's seat and starting the car. "But we can go out this weekend, if you want."

"Sure," I button my jeans absently, staring out the window.

"Maybe we can… you know…"

Why can't he just say it? Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I just nod.

In the Fork's High parking lot, I let Mike go inside so I can run to my truck. I left my bio notebook in there earlier and I need it for next period. The sky has brightened, bleak blue replacing the morning gray, and the puddles shimmer now, joyful in their unexpected streams of sun.

Contentment washes over me and I know it's just afterorgasm calm but that's okay; it won't last and I want to enjoy it while I can.

Across the lot I see Tanya tumble out of Riley the Quarterback's car. They walk into school together, their hands in each other's back pockets like an eighties Guess jeans commercial. An image of her perfect tits pointed straight up in the air, mouth open in silent moan while Edward had sex with her, floats lazily through my mind and I blink in nonsurprise.

Guess she's back with her boyfriend now.

Somehow, I doubt Edward minds.

My chest closes in on itself and I feel a massive sob bulldozing up through my body. Fumbling with the rusted door handle of my truck, I slip inside as soon as it opens and rest my forehead on the steering wheel.

I haven't cried in about two years and even though I'm hurting it feels really good to feel something.


	7. Chapter 7

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* * *

I wiggle the toes on my left foot around, making sure they're all okay.

Practice was rough today, and the last tackle of the day threw me through the ringer; I feel like I've been hit by a train. Some idiot stomped on my foot; even though my cleats the pain was excruciating.

I'll have to ice it later. For now, I throw on a pair of old sneakers, worn and soft enough that they don't add pressure to my jacked up toes. I can't wait to be out of here; it's Friday and I have no other plans other than avoiding Forks High for two days.

Mike Newton's dirty, sniggering laugh drifts over to me and I look over my shoulder to where he's sitting with a couple of the guys. Rolling my eyes, I turn back around, not wanting to give him the attention he so obviously wants..

I know that body language. It's _gather-round-the-fire time, let me tell you about my sexcapades_. I wonder who the unlucky broad is this time...still can't believe girls fall for his crap; he's so cheesy it hurts.

"…Bella…"

I snap up, scowling in Mike's direction, but he's so intoxicated by his raunchy storytelling he doesn't notice.

"Nice," Eric laughs, squeaky and pubescent.

I walk over to where Mike straddles his bench, watching his hands motion and describe shapes and movements and motions.

"What're you talking about?" I ask casually, wiping a towel over my face.

"Bella Swan, man. " His grin his so …toothy.

"What about her?" I walk back to my bag, pull a sweatshirt on.

"She's like…got that innocent thing going on…but she's not, you know? She said she was a virgin but she definitely knew what she was doing," he says, and I just want to slap the snot out of him.

Nausea punches through me and I swallow back the urge. "What do you mean?" I ask, trying to keep the wobble out of my voice.

"I hit that shit man, back seat of my-"

But my fist connects with his face, over and over; I can't stop.

The freight train is back, roaring though my ears this time. Mike gets up and starts punching back and he catches me a few times but he's weak and his hits are sloppy.

I feel hands on me, arms trying to pull me away but I know if I can screw up his mouth enough he can't use it to talk trash.

Mike's hospitalized and I'm expelled.

My mother is crying, wringing her hands, and I know she feels betrayed, like I deceived her into thinking I was okay. Dad says he'll deal with me later and just like that I'm banished off to my room with no dinner, like a little kid in time out.

At 11:17 a text comes through. Bella's number flashes on the screen.

_You awake?_

_ Yes_

___Come for me?_

_ can't. they took the car._

She doesn't answer, and I'm about to turn my phone off altogether when my phone vibrates again.

_Meet me? Halfway?_

_ When_

___Leaving now_

I don't really care if they catch me or not; my life is over either way. I walk straight out the front door and into the damp night, walking until I see Bella up ahead fifteen or twenty minutes later.

She's cold, gripping her hoodie tight, which annoys me. She knows better…it's cold this time of year.

"What's up?" I say when we're close enough to talk.

"What did you do that today?" she asks, her voice dead.

"He was…"

"What?"

I shrug. "Telling lies."

"About what?" She's impatient now, shifting from one foot to the other.

"About you."

She shakes her head. "So?"

I rub my hand over my face, wondering what my parents plan to do with me now that I've flunked out of one school and been kicked out of another."It's a locker room, Bella. The guys talk… a lot. He said he'd had you."

"He did," she says in this quiet voice.

"What?" My stomach tightens and for a split second I feel like I might puke. "Why? Why would you do that?"

"Why do you care, Edward?" she asks, closing her eyes. "Seriously."

"Just because I've never tried to have sex with you it doesn't mean I don't care about you," I say, bowled over by the thought of her giving it up to him.

"Well your expression betrays your words," she says bitterly, taxing a step back. "_You don't care_, so don't pretend like you do…"

If she wants to think that, it's fine. I'm far too tired at this point to argue anymore.

"What happens now?" she asks. "You were expelled, right?"

"Yeah," I say, shrugging.

We're quiet for a long time, and I clear my throat so I can turn and go.

"Edward," she says, her voice bright in the all consuming black. "Why did you beat him up that badly?"

"The thought of him inside you made me mad."

"You can't have your cake and eat it too," she recites, misunderstanding my feelings. After all this time, she still thinks I'm jealous.

"I know."

* * *

_by this point edward beating mike down for talking smack about bella is a fanfic favorite/cliche but when i wrote this months back i hadn't read it yet. but hey, what can you do? if mike's being an ass, he deserves a beatdown._


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer; the plot of Volition belongs to me.**

* * *

It's been three weeks since Edward was shipped off to family in Alaska.

_Alaska._

Who lives in Alaska?

Sitting at my ancient desk, which is crumbly on one corner with age or maybe even termites at some point, I google the far off place, interested to see what besides igloos, Eskimos and dog sledding Edward has to look forward to. Alice says he's on a little island named Ketchikan, so small people have to take ferries and seaplanes to access it from the mainland.

After escorting their boy away, the Cullens returned to Forks ghosts of their formal selves. Even Alice is hollower, her eyes lackluster in the aftermath. She tells me, late one night on the phone, that it's like they've lost two sons instead of one. Her parents are being clingy and overprotective now, even encroaching on the time she's used to spending with Jasper.

Before, I would have been annoyed, and told her so. I would have called her ungrateful, reminded her that while her parents drew closer to her and each other in their time of loss, mine pulled further away.

Maybe I should move in with them, I think. I could have Edward's room, his bed.

His soothing quiet and fluttery curtains.

The pictures I see online are nothing like the stereotypical crap I'd envisioned. There are quaint shops and narrow streets and cars; no dogsleds. It looks rugged and fresh, pristine and crisp. Edward will either find himself there or lose his fricking mind altogether.

I just hope he lets out whatever was poisoning him. The anger he wields like a weapon comes from an evil place deep inside. It's killing him.

At school, I don't have to avoid Mike because he avoids me like I have leprosy. He makes wide arcs past my locker, as if Edward is standing in front of it, ready to defend my honor.

What a joke.

Still, the thaw continues and the slivers in my heart groan as they crack wider, deeper, letting sunlight in and stagnant out.

I don't know why I wasn't closer to Alice before; we are inseparable now even though she's a grade behind me and still goes to that prep school across town. My mother moves back into the house with me and Dad, bringing redecorating prowess and cleaning with gusto.

I find I'm not even angry at her anymore… but I do feel disconnected from both her and my father. They can work at fixing their Broken, I'll work on fixing mine. Now there are only about six months left before I graduate early; I'm more interested in setting myself up for my very near future than trying to repair my too sad past.

And, by the time we have our first snow, I am warmer than I have been in some time.

"So, do you ever hear from him?" I ask Alice, stretched across my bed.

She sits on the corner of the mattress tucked into the corner of the room, hugging her knees. "Edward? He calls the house sometimes. He's not so pissed anymore."

"He was pissed?"

"What do you think?" she laughs dryly. "They sent him to an even smaller town that Forks. I thought it was stupid, personally… everyone knows little towns get you into trouble if you don't stay busy."

"As we've seen," I sigh. "But, like, you haven't spoken to him?"

"No, I have. Why?"

"He hasn't texted me in a really long time…"

"Oh," Alice straightens her legs. "They took his phone before he left."

"Oh."

That's that.

There is a party at La Push later and even though it is freezing cold I feel pretty good, wrapped and warm inside a bulky coat. Alice is euphoric because Jasper is there, and I stay with them for a time.

After a while though, that just makes me lonely so I walk down to the sand, mindful to keep from the damper spots nearest the shore.

Huge hands close over my eyes and I jump up with a yelp, my own hands clamped over the ones blinding me.

"Relax, Bella," Jacob Black, family friend extraordinaire.

"Ooh, Jake, that was just wrong! You know I hate being snuck up on".

He chuckles; his laugh is lighthearted and free, reaching for the night sky like embers from the fire.

I take a good look at him, surprised at how different he looks. He's always been cute but even the time we kissed at that party a couple of years ago he was still sort of gangly. Now he is handsome, mature and appealing.

He plops down next to me, keeping me warmer just by being there.


	9. Chapter 9

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization. _

* * *

I feel like an old timer, sitting on this porch in a weather-worn rocking chair. All I need is a dog at my feet and a pipe in my hands.

This is my first winter anywhere besides home, and the lack of sunlight does take some getting used to. Even now, the sun is already beginning to fade, a washed out glow barely lingering around the edges. Still, it's pretty, watching the snow glisten soft. My new world is hushed, quiet, all sound absorbed by the blankets of white.

In the grand scheme of things, I won't be in Alaska long. It's nearly February now, and by May I will have graduated. I guess I'm lucky to be able to finish at all… my behavior was screwed up enough to get me kicked out, but my grades are stellar enough to get me back in. I'd hoped my aunt and uncle would just home school me the way they do my cousins, but two days after I arrived I was enrolled at Ketchikan High.

Sighing, I sit up off the rocking chair just enough so I can scrape it forward. I rest my heavily insulated boots on the cracked wood rail in front of me, focusing on the way the air puffs around my face each time I breathe.

I want to be angry right now, but I'm just tired. I don't even have the luxury of resentment; outside of my parents, Alice…and Emmett… Uncle Garrett and Aunt Kate are the family I'm closest too. I've always liked them better than any of my other aunts and uncles, even my grandparents. He's a park ranger and she stays home with their twin girls; they say what they mean and they mean what they say. They love me, but they don't coddle me. They grieved just like the rest of us when Em disappeared but they don't pity me.

And if Uncle Garrett ever caught me smoking or high, he'd kick my ass. Physically.

So, it's time to cowboy up.

I snort, thinking about that idiot, Jasper Hale… he's definitely all up in Alice now that I'm gone.

My smile fades faster than the ebbing sunlight.

Useless.

I am useless.

I couldn't protect my brother or his goddess of a girlfriend from whatever happened to them. I couldn't protect Bella from the scum of Forks like Mike Newton…and now I can't even protect my disturbingly nubile baby sister from being bedded by slick cowboy types.

The door behind me opens and closes and I can tell by the softer footsteps it's Maggie, slightly younger of the two girls. She walks over to me, glancing between my lap and my face until I drop my legs with a thud. She scoots quickly onto my lap, her mittened hands grabbing at my jacket like I'm some kind of jungle gym.

Like a little cat, she shifts around until she's comfortable, staring up at me with the tactlessness that only little kids can get away with.

"Whatcha doon?"" she asks, pursing her lips as she pokes at my chin.

"Thinking," I say. She's so cute.

"People think all the time," she observes, looking out onto the white front yard. "You don't have to sit down to do it."

I laugh, because, that's true.

"Mhm," I nod, smelling her hair. Mr. Bubbles.

"Do you like it in here?" she says, sticking her little leg out.

"It's okay," I shrug. "I like the cold."

"Me too."

"I like when you share your cookies with me," I add, tugging her straw blonde hair.

"You steal them," she says primly.

"You let me," I say.

She giggles. "'Cause I love you."

Her giddiness makes me for-real smile and we sit there in reverent silence, watching the world dim. I think about what she says, how she lets me take her cookies because she loves me. People do that, I realize. We let people hurt us when we love them, sometimes. Obviously, I'm not really hurting Maggie…but I hurt my parents and Alice.

And Bella.

I was always honest with Bella, never led her on, and never mistreated her…until the end, anyway. Her weakness turned my stomach, got under my skin, so much so that I sought ways to chip away at her stubborn resolve, her need for me.

Need and weakness are linked, aren't they?

But maybe she wasn't weak at all. Maybe she was actually just as strong as I was. It's got to be scary, offering parts of yourself that way, even when you've been rejected. Maybe that's strength.

Or maybe I was as weak as she was, building walls so nothing could get in and hurt me more. Maybe I was weak.

Over thinking hurts my head so I push it away, wishing I had a bowl to smoke. I'll be able to make contacts at school on Monday, sniff out who has what. This is a small town, so I'll have to watch my back. They don't know me, so they won't trust me, and they all know my uncle. People here like him, respect him.

So maybe I'll leave the pot alone. Maybe I just need to own this… whatever it is.

Maybe I need to find a warm and willing girl.

"Can we go in now?" Maggie shivers, cowering from the cold.

"Oh, sh-um, yeah. Come on," I say, standing abruptly with her in my arms. Even with the all the outerwear she weighs about as much as a feather.

"Were you gonna cuss?" she whisper-giggles, her arms around my neck, her legs around my waist.

"Mhm," I smile, not insulting her instinct and intelligence by fibbing.

She kisses my cheek as we go inside, the warm air hitting me so good it hurts.

"Dinner in ten," Aunt Kate says, peeking out from the kitchen. She grins as her little one jumps from my arms and scurries away.

"Okay," I smile back. I feel pathetically empty now with no tiny person to hold.

How sad.

Bella.

She let me hurt her because she loved me.

And... I let her.


	10. Chapter 10

_ All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization. _

**

* * *

**

Turning on the stove, I quickly gather the items I'll need to make rice krispy treats.

Jacob Black is coming over to watch a movie, something we've been doing a lot of lately. Even if Charlie wasn't pulling an all-nighter, which he is, he wouldn't mind. My parents have been friends with Jacob's father since before any of us were born. In fact, my mother was really close to Jacob's before she died…

"Smells good," my mother comments, silently and suddenly in the kitchen. I half-smile, stirring the butter till it's melted before adding marshmallows.

She was gone for so long that sometimes I forget she's here now. My parents never lost touch, never split during those in-between years. Honestly, it feels more like they divorced themselves from me. Sometimes, I just call them Charlie and Renee in my head, like they're someone else's parents.

A dead girl's parents.

"I used to make those for you," she says, her voice soft and tentative. "Remember?"

"Kind of," I nod. I feel her smile next to me and she rubs my back.

I sense that the guilt and depression she experienced when Rose disappeared has dulled to an ache for how she abandoned me. We still haven't really talked about it, and while I wouldn't mind hashing it out…I'm just tired of it. Of all of it.

In fact, the only person I've spoken about everything to is Jacob.

He knows about Rose and Em, my parents and me. Me and Edward. Alice and me, Alice and Jasper. Me and Mike, Mike and Edward… Edward leaving and my staying. I'd thought before that I needed someone who had been through it, to talk to about it, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Jacob's neutrality makes him the perfect friend.

The maybe-perfect lover.

Mike Newton wasn't terrible, but he was not attentive when he took my virginity and so it _ended up_ being terrible. Even now, thinking about it, I cringe, feel faintly ill. Part of me is glad Edward did what he did to Mike, no matter how misguided and self righteous his motives.

Jacob makes me feel good. I think he's a little in love with me, and I can relate to that feeling. And because I can relate I don't turn him away. I could maybe grow to love him too. He's easy on the eyes, and he keeps me warm, and he makes me laugh.

There's a knock at the front door and I hear my mother's voice as she answers it, light and lilting as she greets Jacob.

Then he's beside me, his warm lips on my neck when he says 'hi'.

That gives me goose bumps and I grin and lean away, but not before I switch the spatula into the other hand so I can grab him by his sweatshirt, closer to me. "Hi."

He watches as I combine the cereal with the stovetop concoction, wrestling it into submission. I pat it down into a pan and leave it to cool.

"Give it a minute," I warn, giving Jacob a look.

He nods innocently, but I know he'll steal some when I turn my back.

And he does; I can taste the marshmallow when he tugs me over by the belt loops, kissing me until I feel it between my legs.

Later, after the movie, we chill out on the couch, remnants of popcorn and rice krispy treats scattered on the coffee table. I think briefly of Edward, and the bizarre relationship we have – had? – and how this boy beside me let me in so much faster. How it's taken Jacob a month and a half to get to where Edward and I never did.

Never could.

My eyes burn the way they do when I'm going to cry…this happens to me all the time now, like my emotions are scrambling to make up for lost time.

Breathe deep; it goes away.

"You decided on a school yet?" Jacob asks, his head in my lap.

"It's between UW and Washington State."

"So you're definitely staying in-state… I would've taken you for a 'get the hell outta dodge' kinda girl," he grins, his dark eyes shining up at me. How they shine in the almost-dark, I'll never know.

"They're good schools," I shrug. "Maybe I'll transfer out later on, but for now…"

Jacob nods, yawning.

"What about you? Are you going, you think?"

"I want to," he says, nodding again. "I mean, there are ways for me to go and still stay close to home. I can't go to Seattle though…"

He sounds wistful.

"We'll see each other on the weekends," I offer, knowing what he's thinking.

His eyes meet mine. "Damn right, and during the week, too."

I laugh, running my fingers through his hair. "Okay."

"Okay."


	11. Chapter 11

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_**two chapters in one this time. you'll see why**._

_

* * *

_

**(he)**

**

* * *

**

Angela Webber had graduated as salutatorian of the class of 2008.

And yet, here she was, working as on office assistant at Ketchikan high school, doing little more than filing papers and drinking coffee. Ugh. She'd never had so much coffee in her life; she was going to have to make an appointment with the dentists to have him whiten her teeth again…

She sighed, mired down in epic boredom.

She wrote a late pass.

Pointed an unruly sophomore into the dean's office.

Checked her texts.

Drank some more coffee.

She was about to get started on the photocopies she been asked to ready for Ms. Cope's freshman English class when the door opened and shut, bringing with it a frigid gust of air and the hottest man-boy Angela had ever seen.

_Hol-ee crap, _she thought, automatically smoothing her pink cotton v-neck so that it didn't wrinkle funny.

He was absolutely beautiful: tall, lanky but obviously well built, eyes a green between apples and pine, hair the color of a new penny, lips meant for kissin'.

Hot damn, she'd never seen _anything_ like that in all her years at Ketchikan High – not as a student and certainly not as part of the administration. She bit down on her thumbnail, abruptly hot and cold all at once.

He sauntered up to the desk nearest hers, quietly setting his books on the desk between him and the school secretary, Emily. Judging by the look on her face, she was feeling it too.

"Morning," he said, a crooked smile at his lips. "May I have a late pass please? Our car… got stuck in the snow this morning."

"Oh, oh of course," simpered Emily, her perky little tits heaving in excitement. "Um, your name please?"

"Edward Cullen."

"Oh! You're Garrett and Katie's nephew! Small world," she breathed as she filled out his pass.

Angela rolled her eyes, bringing her gaze back to Edward. He was staring at her, smirking at her reaction, no doubt.

Looking down at her desk to hide her burning cheeks, Angela silently berated herself.

_Are you freaking kidding me right now? He is a _child_! A seventeen… or maybe, hopefully, eighteen year old student! Get a hold of yourself, you, you cougar!_

By the time Angela had wrestled herself out of such tawdry thoughts, he had gone.

Meanwhile, Edward was taking his time getting to class.

Forks High sure as hell didn't have secretaries like that in their office.

And the one in the pink sweater? Nice rack.

* * *

**(she)**

**

* * *

**

Jake wants to be a fire fighter.

I can see this; he's got the build for it, if there is such a thing, and he is both passionate and compassionate. He feels most alive when he's in helping-mode, which is basically all the time. He doesn't have an aloof bone in his body.

This is the same fire in him, pun not intended, that prompted him to seek me out when I was a shell of myself, half frozen on La Push beach that night two years ago, literally and figuratively. He burns hot, inside and out, bright and contagious. You'd have to be halfdead to resist his charms, and even when I felt like that I couldn't deny the way he made me feel.

Normalness is not something you recognize until it is gone, and then, if you're lucky, comes back. And, I know it's a relative thing – what might be normal for me isn't what's normal for you or him or her. That's irrelevant. What matters is finding your own normalness and then thriving. People say "I just want to be happy", as if that's an attainable thing, like because the Constitution mentions it, it's an entitlement.

No. The Declaration of Independence says we're entitled to _the pursuit_ of happiness, not the feeling itself.

Happiness I can strive toward. Personal normalness I can achieve. And I have.

Normalness can't last forever though; the bitter has to come along to balance the sweet, I guess. Two years into a relationship with a guy who is now my best friend... I realize I love him but I have fallen out of love with him. That's so sentimental and cliché. It feels like there should be a greeting card for this sort of thing.

I mean, I fell out of love as easily as quickly as the two of us fell into it. Falling in, he was ahead of me…but I caught up. Falling out, I'm ahead of him.

Way ahead. I don't know if he will catch up. My heart breaks with the knowledge I'm about to break his.

Times like this I'm glad we didn't end up at the same school. I'm halfway to an English degree with a minor in communications. Jake's about to complete his two year program at Peninsula College in Port Angeles. It turned out to be the best plan for him, because now he wants to devote his time to becoming a firefighter and paramedic. He's going to be incredible.

But, he'll have to do it without me. I just hope I can salvage our friendship which, again, sounds terribly cliché…and selfish. "I still wanna be friends!" Ugh.

"We're going to Schultzy's for a quick bite, you in?" my roommate asks, poking her head in the door.

"Nah, not this time Kate. Thanks, though…"

"Want me to bring you back something?" she offers, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Shaking my head, I smile, kindly. "It's okay. Thanks."

"'Kay. Call me if you change your mind," she says, her voice fading as she leaves our dorm.

Jake is coming up tonight, like he always does on Thursday. It's been our routine forever now; he's always purposely kept his Fridays free so he can drive up Thursday night and leave Sunday evening. My college friends are all used to him – hell, they love him. Our living space is littered with pictures of our group out and about and having fun from both freshman and sophomore years and Jake is in many of those pictures.

My stomach twists, and I feel too warm and over anxious. How am I going to tell him I want to go back to being friends? Can I really be the one to kill the light in his eyes?

On cue, my phone rings and I glance down at it, seeing Jakes name pop up on the little screen. I'm tempted to let it go to voicemail, but that's stupid.

"Hey," I say.

"Hey, Bella. I'm almost there, just had to stop for gas."

"Oh, it's ok. You don't usually come 'till later anyway," I assure him, my heart skipping around frantically.

"Yeah… you need anything?" he asks. I can hear the sound of the wind rushing by.

"No, I'm cool. Just… drive safe."

"I will. Love you," he says.

"…love you too."

* * *

_ETA: there's a time jump between sections 1 & 2 of this chapter. the rest of the story will take place in the "2 years later"._


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, Volition belongs to me._

* * *

Every muscle in my body aches.

Moving all day will do that to you.

Dad waves goodbye, his arm dangling out the window as he turns the corner at the end of my new street. I wave back, watching 'till he's gone, and turn to go back inside.

The place is a frigging disaster, obviously, but I'm too exhausted to do much more than yawn and sway on my feet. Mom and Alice placed the boxes and bags in their prospective rooms, so at least I have a general idea where everything is.

You'd think I'd be used to this; I've moved three times in three years. It's good to be home.

Well, almost…Seattle's as close to Forks as I've lived since senior year.

In my room, I locate the box with my one and only set of bed sheets – clean, thank God – and quickly make the bed, sleep fantasies shimmering like a mirage in front of me.

"Just a shower," I say to myself, stripping on my way to the bathroom.

I guess I'm lucky to be able to alone. No (fill in appropriate adjective) roommate to share space with.

I don't even care when my hair gets the pillow all wet; all I want is to sleep.

And sleep, I do.

Sometimes, if I'm lucky, Emmett is alive when I dream, and I see him. He looks the same, and that's the way it should be.

Tonight's sleep is stark with dreamlessness.

* * *

I wake up way before I'm ready to. Someone's banging at the door and I'm all curses and epithets of the worst kind as I trudge toward it.

"Dude. I've been out here for, like, ten minutes," Jasper says, pushing past me and coming in.

"Why didn't you just call?" I yawn.

"I did."

I check my phone. There are thirteen missed messages and I don't know how many texts.

"Oh…sorry," I say, frowning.

Ironically, Jasper is my closest friend. When he and Alice became a long term thing, it was kind of inevitable I'd end up hanging out with him. He and Alice are the main reason I'm in Seattle at all.

"Where's Al?"

"She's having a movie marathon with some friends of hers," he shrugs. "You still want to grab a beer?"

"I guess," I yawn again, wider this time. "Lemme throw on some clothes."

It feels good being outside; the night is crisp with the early onset of autumn. The windows in Jasper's car are down and I savor the taste of the wind on my tongue, relish the calm I feel.

It's a typical college bar, but the music's not bad. We sit in a booth, talking about everything and nothing at all; he buys the first round, I buy the second.

Draining the last of his beer, Jasper sits back. "Goin' on a bathroom run," he belches.

Nodding, I push my empty glass through the condensation puddles on our table, careful not to get my sleeve wet.

Every college scene feels the same, but I don't particularly mind. Times like this normalness is welcome; it's comforting in its constancy. I watch as people talk loudly over the music at the bar, flirting with each other and laughing.

I notice her hair first; long, brown, shiny under the dim yellow lights. She's got ample curves, really nice; it's hard not to appreciate the way she fills out her jeans. Sliding my eyes away from her, I search the rest of the crowd, wondering why Jasper isn't back yet. He's lived here a lot longer than I have; goofy bastard's probably catching up with one of the many people he knows.

I push my glass toward the back of the table and stand up, stretching my arms over my head. I knew it - Jasper's talking to some guy across the room, so I make my way over.

"Edward, this Eric, my roommate from last year," Jasper says when I join him.

We nod and meet and shake hands and they continue talking and then my eyes are back on that girl.

When she looks at me it puts this weird feeling in my chest and I don't know if I'm drawn to her or repelled by her.

Because it's Bella.

She's different now, grown, soft and curvy with damn near nice _everything_. Her hair is longer.

And yet, that's not even quite it. It's the way she _is_ now; she looks at me and ducks her head, looks at me and sits down, her back to me.


	13. Chapter 13

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

* * *

"Bella's turn." Kate grins, tapping her beer bottle with a stubby nail. I sigh inwardly; she's been biting them again.

"Yeah, yeah," I say, pushing back my chair and standing up. Usually we sit in a booth, but by the time we reached the College Inn Pub all that was left were tables.

Coming here is kind of a tradition, something we started the year we turned twenty one. My birthday's in September, so I was the first, but Kate and Charlotte followed directly behind like dominos…October, November... no more sneaking alcohol into our dorm to get tipsy and silly together. Now we could actually go and out and act stupid.

And yet… we very rarely do act stupid.

I lucked out with Kate. We met our first year, in freshman Lit. I'd had a roommate who was always at her boyfriend's apartment, and Kate had a roommate whose boyfriend refused to leave theirs. We connected over coffee and assignments, and because we had no one else, became thick as thieves. She was staying at my place most nights a few weeks into the term.

Sophomore year we moved in together, sharing a suite with a sweetheart named Charlotte and it's been us three ever since. Wednesday nights, no matter what's going on, we come down here and relax. Sometimes we chill for awhile…other times, if one of us has exams or an inordinate amount of class work or reading, it's just for a beer. But, it keeps us sane. It keeps us social. It's good.

I didn't realize that I actually liked people. They used to sort of… intimidate me. I always felt less-than, and I don't know why. It took Jacob constantly reaffirming me as a person (self-help books? Psssh. I had a self-help boyfriend) and forging a very slow, awkward relationship with my mother, with whom I was _thisclose_ to being estranged… to get the ball rolling.

College helped, mainly because I knew no one. Alice is a year behind me, and even when she graduated she went to some design school in the city. I was forced to rely on the kindness of strangers for everything, from missed assignments to letting me in to my building when I forgot my keys. I was forced to make friends.

I have a life here. I am part of a pattern, a group, a living thing.

I have this in Forks, of course, but that's different. Hometowns always come with a side order of familiarity-breeds-contempt.

"Three Coronas please," I say, leaning against the bar. Whoever buys the round gets to choose what's being bought. The girls always go domestic, but I like Corona with lime.

Thankfully, this is one of the parts of my routine that never involved Jacob, and so being here without him doesn't feel foreign. It's been three months since the break and he's finally started calling again; he even came down for a visit last week. I wouldn't say he's healed, but he's getting there. This helps me heal, too.

Just because I was the one doing the breaking up, it doesn't mean I got away scot-free. I ache with loneliness sometimes, miss the kisses, the feeling of being the half of a happy whole.

Back at our table, I give the girls their beers, pausing before having a seat.

"Oh, my goodness," Charlotte drawls, her cute little Southern accent creeping out when she drinks.

"What?" I wrinkle my nose, sip my beer, lick the tart lime off my lip.

"Girl, this gorgeous, and I mean _gorgeous_ guy's starin' at your ass," she says, taking a long pull of beer.

Frowning, I look around.

"Be more obvious, Bella," Kate sighs. "He's right behind you. Over by the payphones."

This time I see him, and my heart squeezes, like a fist is clenched around it.

Edward.

The sight of him nearly takes my breath away, and I look down before he sees my stupid red cheeks. He couldn't really be here… could he?

Alice would have said something, right?

Quivering, quick, I glance and he's there, and staring, and I turn around, sliding into my chair, not ready to face him.

I feel, literally, like puking.

Charlotte is still talking about how delicious he is and I slap my palm down on the table, gently, but firmly enough to send a tiny spray of condensation flying. "I know."

Kate looks at me, her bottle halfway to her mouth before setting it down, all theatrical-like. Damn drama majors. "What? You know him?"

"His name's Edward. We use to… be… in Forks."

"You slept with him, didn't you," Charlotte sings, her baby blues sparkling.

I almost choke because she's both so right and so wrong. "Not - no. We…it's weird."

Closing my eyes, I blink away the sudden prick of tears behind my lids.

"Baby," Charlotte breathes, touching my hand.

"His brother was the one who went missing with Rose." I drain the rest of my beer, enjoying the cold, bubbly burn.

"Oh." Kate fidgets, a grimace on her face. "Well, damn."

"Yeah," I say.

Not much to be said about that, is there?

We're silent until I burp, long, loud, and utterly obnoxious, sending us into riot of snickers and giggles.

"Bella?"

My eyes are watering, because I'm laughing and maybe even crying a little bit. I look up at Edward, and he's the same as he's always been, except so much finer than my memory remembers.

"Hi, Edward."

I want to run, get as far from him as I can, but that's not an option. I'm supposed to be better adjusted by this point in my life, not the same basket case I was back in high school.

Jasper pulls up alongside Edward, looking slightly like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Sighing, I wipe the back of my hand across my lip."Hi Jasper."

"Hey, Bella," he says. He nods at Kate and Charlotte; they've met him and Alice plenty of times. "We were just leaving, actually."

"Oh, okay. Nice seeing you," I say lamely, turning back to my empty bottle. Kate or Charlotte- I can't tell who – kicks me savagely beneath the table. I'll have to set them both straight later; they just don't understand. Besides Jake, Edward is not something I've spoken about to anyone… but obviously he's here now and they need to understand my reasons for avoiding him, no matter how pretty he is.

I can feel Edward staring down at me, and I wonder what he sees.

"Bella," he says again, his voice softer.

So I stand up and walk out, leaving everyone behind, knowing he will follow me.

And he does.

"How've you been?" he asks, looking at me too directly.

"I've been okay." I nod emphatically. "Actually, I'm…really happy here. I love it."

"That's good…" he says, smiling.

I can't remember the last time I saw him really smile. "What about you? Why are you here?"

"I transferred."

"Here?" I squeak. So much for being cool about things.

"Yeah, here," he says, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh."

We're silent and weird for a few minutes and then the girls come out with my purse, trailed by Jasper.

"Edward, Kate, Charlotte," I point by way of introductions. Everyone smiles and shifts and waves and then I reach over, touching Edward's hand briefly.

"It's good to see you," I tell him, not sure if that's true.

"It's good to see you too."

Even when we walk away, I know he's watching, which is interesting.

Interesting and not something I want to get into.


	14. Chapter 14

_All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

**another two chapters, together.**

**

* * *

**

(she)

* * *

I have a silver ring that was Rosalie's, pretty ornate patterns swirled throughout.

When I was younger, the thought of wearing it seemed morbid, but about a few years ago I put it on and never took it off.

It was one of the things I found on her dresser in the days following her disappearance. I took it, not even sure why…like I said, I didn't want to wear it. I just wanted to have it, to have some piece of her, I guess.

I'd forgotten I even had it until I left home for college. I was packing, going through my dresser drawers and jewelry boxes when I found it, tarnished from years of neglect. A couple of minutes with a polishing cloth had it looking like new, and I slid it onto the middle finger of my right hand.

I gaze at it now, running my thumb over it.

Seeing Edward like that brings to the surface emotions I suppose I've buried… ones I thought I'd dealt with but have really just put away. I've come to terms with the reality Rose is never coming back, and I actually believe she's resting peacefully.

Edward never thought that. Sometimes, in the beginning, when the horror and uncertainty were freshest, he'd imagine awful things, telling me all about his nightmares and waking dreams. He had no faith in an afterlife, which is why he never could accept that they had probably died.

He refused to let go.

Eventually, he stopped talking about it, and I was only too happy. I could scarcely deal with the contents of my own mind without having to listen to the tortured ruminations of his.

It never left us alone though; Edward's fear and anger ate him up from the inside out. It colored his words, affected his moods.

It had taken me a year of counseling, my freshman year of college, to understand that. Jacob had been an important part of my healing, of course, but there were some issues even he couldn't touch, like the really deep seated ones, the trauma of losing a loved one the way we had lost Rose. Edward came up many times during those therapy sessions; he'd branded himself on my heart and soul and I thought about him often, even when I was beginning to fall in love with Jake.

But now there's no Jake and no therapy.

I don't know what Edward has been doing for the past few years but I'll be damned if he comes into the life I've so delicately woven and tears it apart. I don't know that I can trust him with myself, with my feelings, my memories. If he's the same person he was, he's got too many issues and I can't let him drag me down with him.

If I'm honest with myself, he doesn't seem the same.

But appearances can be deceiving.

* * *

(he)

* * *

Because it's Tuesday and the three classes I have back to back are over by noon, the rest of my day is free. Alice insists on cooking me dinner later on, but between now and then I'm not sure what to do with myself. I'm still not that familiar with Seattle; a lot of my time has been spent indoors, either in class or studying for class, or working. Aside from grabbing food from one of the delis between the apartment and campus, I'm hardly outside.

It's kind of a shame, really; I like this time of year.

So I take a roundabout way home, enjoying the wind on my face, the crackle of leaves beneath my feet. It's an odd sort of day, restless, electric. It's not clear, but it's not quite overcast either.

"Oh wow, look at that," a voice beside me murmurs, obviously to herself. I glance at the woman but she's gazing at the sky so I look, too. It _is_ a "wow" moment; the murky clouds up ahead have a gaping hole, letting out a blinding shock of sunlight. It's so focused in just one place the light doesn't even spread any further. I imagine it's heaven and I'm catching a glimpse.

For the first time ever, I wish I had a camera. The one on my phone doesn't count.

I can probably credit Alaska for my ability to notice stuff like that....really, to appreciate things beyond myself. Uncle Garrett and Aunt Kate were always dragging me along on family hikes; up in the mountains, down by the lakes, trekking through the forest with overloaded backpacks and supplies. I'd thought growing up in Forks was rustic but good God. Ketchikan was like, the frontier. They loved camping; I was always terrified I'd get eaten by a bear.

But Aunt Kate was constantly taking pictures – of the girls, me, herself with Garrett, the sky… trees… water – anything. Evidence of the way she saw her world embellished their home, and pretty soon, I was a part of that landscape too. I got used to having my picture taken – something I'd hated before - and used to seeing myself. She'd given me some of our favorites when I'd left… like one of me and Maggie on the porch, chillin'.

"Excuse me," someone passes a little too close; their bag clips me on the arm as they hurry on. I don't really care, but it does snap me back to _rightnow_.

The heaven-hole is closing now, the nebulous edges constantly shifting and melting.

* * *

I have a car. I simply choose not to drive it, unless of course, I'm going to Alice's. She lives clear across town and there's no way I can on foot, especially not at night.

Grabbing the bottle of wine on the passenger seat, I get out of the car, rolling my eyes at the douchey predictability of bringing wine to dinner. I know Alice will love it, which is why I'm doing it, but still. It feels… corny and very adult.

Jasper answers the door. We knock fists in a moment of amused solidarity and he takes the bottle, raising his eyebrows at the name.

"Alice White?"

"Appropriate, don't you think?"

He snorts. "She'll love it."

And she does. She practically leaps into my arms, peppering my chin with kisses. "So glad you're here," she whispers.

"I come every Tuesday, Al," I say, smiling at her shiny eyes. "And every Friday, some Sundays…"

"Shush," she says, grabbing a corkscrew. "I'm glad you got white – must've been reading my mind."

The doorbell rings.

"Jas-"

"I got it," he says, leaving the kitchen.

He returns about a half a minute later, Bella in tow.

Well. That's unexpected. I shoot a glance at Alice, but she's busy pouring wine into four wine glasses.

Bella blinks at me, standing awkwardly in the doorframe.

"Hey," I nod.

"Hi, Edward," she says.

And then she sort of…melts right before my eyes. Her face softens and her shoulders relax. She walks right over to me and very slowly gives me a hug.

I wrap my arms around her, not tight because it's kind of weird still, but just enough. Her hair smells good. It always did.

When she releases me and steps away, she goes straight for Alice and hugs her too. We stand around the island in my little sister's kitchen, saturated in warmth and the welcome smells of dinner.

I'm talking to Jasper, sipping wine and wishing I had a beer instead.

Bella has her hair gathered to one side; she holds it there with one hand as she brings a spoon to her mouth, sampling whatever Alice is stirring on the stove. She's the same, but she's so different; she sort of radiates calm and light now.

She was always pretty, but she used to be so pliable and faded, like overused Play-doh or something. I'd hated watching her just... let things happen. She'd received and faded and eroded, and I'd pushed and pulled and kicked.

But Bella's not that way anymore, and it relieves me more than I'd imagined it would. I hadn't thought about her much in the last year, not like when I first went away and she floated through my thoughts at least once a day.

I can tell she's better now. She moves different, and really smiles. Even her skin looks better, brighter and less see-through.

She says something to Al and looks at me, averting her eyes when she realizes I've been watching. It goes straight to my dick and I realize then there's energy between us. I mean, I suspected it before but I know it now.

I'm not stupid, though. She's not exactly flirting with me. She's afraid I'm going to jerk her around the way I did before and I really can't blame her.


	15. Chapter 15

All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

We stay up like, talking. It's the first time I've ever been in the same room with Alice, Jasper and Edward. Ever. In high school, I spent a lot of time with Alice, but never knew Jasper. Nowadays I hang out with the two of them a lot; besides my roommates, they are my closest friends. I'd known Alice was inviting her brother over for dinner more and more often and suspected it was just a matter of time before we both ended up there together.

It's not that weird after all, being around him. There's evidence of Edward's growth; he's not so sullen anymore, not so quick to ignite.

While I spent years learning to thaw, he has been learning to cool off.

Eventually both the red wine and the white are consumed and the remainders of dinner are scattered on the kitchen counter, where Alice refuses to let me help. I'm in the mood for something sweet, but Alice didn't make dessert this time around, so I guess I'm out of luck.

"I'm making brownies next time," I tell her, shrugging into my hoodie as I get ready to go.

"Okay." She smiles. "Friday?"

I glance at Edward, who's got his hands jammed in his pockets as he stares at the carpet.

"Yeah, okay," I agree, stepping forward to hug her. "Love you."

"Love you too," she says, giving me a quick squeeze.

Jasper hugs me too and then I'm shoving my sneakers on over my socks.

"I'll walk you out," Edward says, putting his shoes on too.

"Aw, no, that's okay. I'm parked right in front," I say, trying to smile through my yawn.

"No, I should," he frowns and I _know_ somehow he's thinking of the night he let me walk home by myself. A tiny spark of old anger shoots through me remembering that, but as quickly as it effloresces, it dies.

I don't want to be that Bella anymore, so I shouldn't allow him to be that Edward anymore.

Hand on the doorknob, I wait patiently for Edward to say goodbye and then we leave together, bracing ourselves against the bite of late night Seattle wind.

"Do you want to get coffee or something?" he asks as we walk down the steps. "We can probably find a diner with brownies… a la mode or something."

He's tempting, in more ways than one, but the thought of being somewhere, alone with him, makes my stomach twist. He makes me anxious.

"No, thanks. I'm a little tired," I say, zipping my hoodie up all the way.

"Yeah, I feel you," he says.

I peek over at him, but his face is stoic as ever; unreadable.

"Thanks." We pause at my truck, our hug prompt and swift, and then he's gone.

* * *

I adjust the lens on my camera, wanting to have the right focus for today's light. Everything is sharper, the shadows darker and the light brighter. The tree's leaves have deepened remarkably; they look like they're bleeding or in flames.

Leaf, sky, tree trunk... hair.

Lowering the camera, I realize Edward's hair is autumnal. Oblivious to me, and apparently everything, he's in the middle of this fracas of foliage, sitting on another bench, looking at something in his hands. Impulsively, I take two, three pictures of him, zooming in on the last one.

* * *

I'm not as surprised as I should be when I open the door and find him standing there, a paper bag in his hands.

"Hi." He smiles, easy.

"Hi." I smile, and stand aside to let him inside.

"Brownies," he says, lifting the bag to eye level.

"Edward," I laugh. "I'm not… obsessed with brownies, you know. I just wanted them the other night…"

"They got me in, didn't they?" he shrugs.

"Did Al give you my address?"

"Yep," he says, looking around.

In my room, I sit in the middle of my bed and motion for him to do the same. He kicks off his shoes and sits beside me, his body moving and folding with the same grace he's always had.

I do love brownies, it's true.

"Do you want milk?" I ask, scooting forward so I can climb off the bed.

"I hate milk, Bella. You know that."

"I don't know you at all, remember?" I say, leaving the room.

He's quiet when I return with milk for me and water for him, and then, "Do you hate me?"

"No." I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth. "I never hated you."

"You're different," he says.

"So are you," I shrug, leaning forward to put my glass on the nightstand.

He takes my glass from me and sets it down next to his. "Are you happy now?"

"Do you still think about them all the time?" I ask instead.

"Sometimes."

"Me too," I say softly, pulling a string from the hem of my jeans. "I wear her ring now."

He glances at my hand.

"I'm okay," I sigh. "But it took a while, you know?"

He nods. "I'm sorry for letting you walk home by yourself."

"I'm glad you're sorry," I say, and I touch his knee.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer; this belongs to me.**

* * *

Instead of waking up to my alarm, I awoke to the soft staccato of falling rain.

I swiped my phone off of the nightstand and preemptively turned off the alarm anyway, not wanting its shrill beeping to further disrupt the morning quiet.

It was going to be a driving day, apparently.

Rain made it hard to want to go anywhere. All I wanted was to laze around in my underwear and watch TV but with a full day of class and work after that, staying in was not an option. Sitting up, I swiped at my face and yawned. I probably should've considered these things before moving back to the rainiest place on the planet but it was too late for that.

Shower… orange juice… clothes…bag.

I was about to step out into the downfall, an umbrella poised at my side, when my phone rang inside my pocket, buzzing aggressively against my thigh like an angry bee.

"Hello?"

"Edward?"

I frowned at the phone. "Bella?"

"Yeah," she laughed nervously. "Um, my truck's acting up…are you leaving anytime soon?"

If I picked her up, I'd be late.

"I'm on my way out the door now, do you need a ride?"

"Yes, please – I'm so sorry to ask like this, you're probably rushing…" she rambled, her voice fading as I opened the front door. The rain was coming down in torrents now, little rivers washing roughly down the street.

"It's okay, I'll be there in a minute," I said, opening my umbrella.

"Are you sure? I -"

"Bella, it's fine," I said, a little annoyed. "Be ready."

I ended the call and returned my phone to the safety of my pocket before she could say anything else and rushed over to my car, managing to get only slightly wet.

Bella was standing in the stairwell of her dorm with an umbrella of her own. I honked to make sure she saw me and she jogged over, splashing through the puddles in her boots.

"Thank you so much," she said, jumping into the car. Her hair was wet. I wondered if it was from the rain or the shower. "I can't believe it's giving me problems again…"

"You have a thing for red trucks," I commented, looking both ways before merging into traffic. She'd had an old red rust bucket in high school; the latest was a smaller and newer, but still a pickup.

"I guess," she shrugged. "My parents got it for me when the other one died."

I nodded, glancing at her as we pulled up to a stoplight.

"Guilt money," she smirked.

"What do you mean?"

She gazed at me for just a moment before turning toward the window, tracing her finger down the glass.

Assuming she didn't want to get into whatever I continued on down the road. She didn't speak again until we were on campus.

"You can just drop me off by the library," she said, fiddling with the zipper on her bag.

The rain wasn't showing any sign of letting up. I got as close to the library building as I possibly could and parked, expecting Bella to make a quick exit. I was late now, at least ten minutes so.

"They ignored me for awhile," she said quietly, looking right into my eyes.

"I know," I said, just as quietly.

"You…" she paused, her face flushing. "You were always there… for me. Even when you were being an asshole. So thanks."

Hearing her speak up for herself was pretty appealing, even if she was insulting me.

"Gee, thanks," I smiled.

She shook her head, grinning, and opened the door.

"Call me if you need a ride later," I called.

She didn't.

* * *

At Alice's later, I asked Bella how she'd gotten home.

"I took the bus."

"Why didn't you call me?" I asked, dropping down onto the same couch she was sitting on.

She shot me a look, slightly amused. "I've been living here for nearly three years. I can get around."

"Beer or wine?" Alice popped in from the kitchen.

"Definitely beer," I said.

"Me too. Please," Bella added, relaxing into the couch. She glanced at me and then looked away really fast, like she hadn't expected me to be watching her.

So I kept watching. Alice came in to give us our beers. I noticed Jasper was staying in the kitchen and I wondered absently if they were doing that on purpose, forcing Bella and I to be together to talk alone.

"What?" Bella laughed nervously, taking a long pull of her beer.

"You blush a lot," I noted, trying not to laugh outright when she did it again.

"Family curse." She shrugged.

"Is that right," I said, finishing my beer.

"That was fast," she frowned.

I belched.

"Eww," she said, scrunching up her face and taking a big sip of her own.

"Charming the ladies, eh Edward?" Jasper yelled from the kitchen. I heard Alice shushing him; I knew it. They were trying to set us up.

At least, Alice was.

Ridiculous.

"I want to know you, Bella."

She got real serious, real fast. "You do know me. You were the one that didn't want to be known back then."

"I know," I said. "And I'm sorry. But I want you to know me now."

"Why?" she asked, watching me as she polished off her own beer.

"That was fast," I said instead, looking pointedly at her bottle.

She belched and immediately giggled, covering her mouth.

"That was hot," I grinned, loving the way she looked when she laughed.

"Wasn't it?" she said, placing her empty bottle on the coffee table. "So why now, Edward? Why do you want me to know you now?"

_Because I'm drawn to you, _I wanted to say_. I was drawn to you even when I didn't want you and now I do want you and I'm drawn to you even more._


	17. Chapter 17

_ All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization. _

**

* * *

**

The warm gold of autumn gave way to winter's silver; stripping the trees of their leaves and slicking the ground with patches of ice or dirty snow.

We were indoors a lot because of this but I didn't necessarily mind. I'd always liked the cold, liked being snuggled in scarves and burrowed below blankets.

Alice sat beside me on my bed, a bowl of popcorn in her lap. She chewed slowly, squinting at something over on my desk.

"What?"

"What's that a picture of?" she asked, rooting around the bowl. She'd put chocolate chips into it, and the ones that hadn't melted against the buttery warmth had slid to the bottom.

My eyes shifted to where hers were, but I already knew what she was talking about. I'd meant to put them away, but as was often the case with me, kept forgetting as piles of paperwork and class assignments began to cover them. Today I'd finally begun cleaning and tidying, disgusted with how badly I'd neglected my room.

So there they lay. Uncovered and obvious. The pictures.

"It's, ah, your brother," I said, licking my lips guiltily.

"What?" She half smiled, unfolding her legs and scooting off the bed. Walking over to my desk she peered down, the popcorn bowl tucked into one hip. "I love it… when was this taken? How come he didn't show me?"

"He doesn't know," I said, the sheepishness growing worse.

She turned to me, one eyebrow up in amusement. "Oh, really?"

"Shut up, it's not like that," I laughed, shaking my head as I picked up the photo on top. They really had turned out beautifully… he might like to see them. I should've known Alice would freak… next thing I knew she'd be asking for copies.

"My parents would love one of these," she said, her eyes flickering back down. "There are more? Jeez Bella, how many did you take?"

"Just three, gosh!" I huffed, picking the other two up delicately and examining them. "It was a gorgeous day and he sorta just… blended in."

"His gorgeousness blended in?" She made a face, licking chocolate off her finger.

"Alice." I scowled. "His _hair_. It _blends_. Anyway, whatever." I tossed them back down and covered them with a syllabus from the semester before.

"I'm just teasing you," she cooed. I rolled my eyes, knowing she was just getting started. I'd made sure never to bring up my previous crush on Edward, mainly because it was too awkward and too painful.

My high school years, the latter ones especially, had not been pleasant. Rose, my parents, Edward… all of them had hurt me deeply, although in different ways, and not always on purpose. In my heart I knew Alice would have understood back then to a degree because she'd lost someone too. I wasn't sure why I never turned to her. And if I told her _now_ just what I'd been through _then_ I feared she'd feel some sort of misplaced betrayal, knowing I'd been staying with her brother when it was her I was supposed to be close to.

What a mess.

Anyway, none of that mattered now, though. I'd forgiven Edward, and myself, for past sins. There was literally nothing I could do about it. The fact that he actually apologized nowadays made it even easier. I mean, I'd already gone through a period of forgiveness on my own – through therapy, journaling, even Jake. He'd always encouraged me to work through my feelings but also to let go. He was chill like that. But there was definitely something about the transgressor wanting to make amends.

He hadn't just done work on himself; he wanted to make sure I was okay too. I appreciated that.

And yes, I was attracted to him. That was familiar in some ways – and it made me both exhilarated and uneasy. But it was different, too, because he was different.

"Be real, Bella," Alice said.

I blinked, realizing with a start that she'd been watching me journey to la-la land and back.

My face warmed. "About what?"

"Edward."

"What about him? We're cool…" I shrugged, flopping face first onto my bed.

When she didn't answer I flipped over and looked at her. She narrowed her eyes.

"You two flirt all the time," she said.

"Yeah." I nodded, not bothering to play coy.

"So… do you like him? Or is it just flirting?"

I laughed a little. "I couldn't flirt with someone I didn't like," I said quietly.

Alice sat beside me, offering the bowl. I accepted it, immediately finding a clump of especially chocolaty popcorn to chew on.

"I think he likes you, too," she said.

"I know he does."

"Then…why…" she trailed off, genuinely confused.

Sighing, I closed my eyes, trying to figure my crap out. Of course Alice would see it in black and white – she and Jasper had been going on strong since she was a junior in high school.

"You know he used to be a manwhore, right?" I said, knowing it was a copout even as I said it.

"In high school… I don't think he's that bad anymore," she said. "Seriously, when would he have time? When he's not in class he's studying and when he's not studying he's working."

"Where does he work, anyway?" I asked.

"He teaches little kids piano and guitar, and he works as TA in some of the university's music classes."

"Oh."

That was news to me. I'd always known that he loved music; I didn't realize it was such a part of his daily life like that.

As if she was reading my mind, Alice sighed. "He played all the time before Emmett left. That's who taught him, you know. He couldn't even deal with it afterwards. He only started up again after coming back from Alaska."

"I didn't know," I said. "Is that where he is now?"

She glanced at her phone. "Until six, yeah."

We sat for awhile, munching quietly until the bowl was empty.

"You coming for dinner?" she asked, standing.

"Why don't you have Jazz come here," I offered. "And, invite Edward."


	18. Chapter 18

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_

* * *

_

Lasagna was one of the few things I was proficient at making. The best part about our current suite was the kitchen. It was tiny – a real "convenience" kitchen, so to speak – but after spending both my freshman and sophomore years in jailcell-sized dorm rooms, it was a step up.

Alice left only to return an hour later with Jasper and a bottle of wine.

Not wanting to seem over eager, I hemmed and hawed around the topic of Edward's whereabouts. Maybe it shouldn't have mattered, but it was kind of embarrassing Alice was so cognizant of my feelings. Thank God she didn't know the extent of it, particularly, our bizarre past.

She _knew_ me, though, and had for years.

"He'll be by in a bit," she said, leaning on the counter as I eased the heavy pan of steaming lasagna on to a dishtowel to cool. "He's in sort of a mood."

I rolled my eyes. That was something I knew more about than I cared to.

"He got bad news today," she added, having noticed my expression.

"What about?" I turned to her, peeling my oven mitts off and tossing them on to the counter.

Alice hesitated, chewing the inside of her cheek. "My Aunt Kate miscarried a couple of days ago. Edward got really close to her and Uncle Garrett and their two girls when he stayed with them in Ketchikan."

"Ketchikan?" I echoed, my stomach hardening into a lump. There were so many things I still didn't know about Edward, and the interim of time we'd been apart.

"The little town in Alaska where he went," she explained. "He keeps in touch with them…emails, postcards… my little cousins are totally in love with him. And there would have been one more, but..."

"I'm really sorry, Al," I whispered, touching her arm.

She smiled weakly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I know they have two beautiful girls, and they'll probably try again, it's just… I don't know. They were so excited – they'd already found out the sex and everything. It was a little boy…and they wanted his middle name to be Edward, just because of how close they've all gotten. They practically saved my brother's life, Bella. He was a mess when he went to live with them."

Listening quietly, I linked my fingers through hers. Jasper appeared in the doorway, his eyes softening when he looked at Alice. "I'm gonna run to the store for that garlic bread, Bella, okay?"

I nodded. "That would be great, thanks."

"Drive safely," Alice called softly.

"I will." The door shut behind him and we turned to one another again.

"Well, thanks for letting me know," I sighed. "He can be so hard to read sometimes… I never want to say the wrong thing."

"Oh, you couldn't," she said, laughing a little. "I think he's pretty in to you."

"Yeah, now he is," I chuckled, immediately cringing inwardly.

Sharp as a tack, Alice narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean, 'now' he is?"

"Just… I had a thing for him in high school and he was rather cruel," I mumbled, knowing my face was fire engine red.

"No kidding?" she said, visibly surprised. "Um, you hid it well."

"I had to," I shrugged. "He didn't feel the way I did."

"Wow," she shook her head. "I never knew the extent of it. I knew there was something weird, but..."

"Do you want to pop open that wine?" I asked, eager to change the subject.

She allowed me to.

"Sure," she walked briskly to the other end of the counter – which was about two steps away - and grabbed the corkscrew, getting to work.

Minutes later the door opened and shut. Jasper walked into the kitchen, Edward trailing behind him.

"Look what the cat dragged in," I said lightly, watching him carefully. His eyes were on me right away and I smiled, suddenly wanting so much to be a source of comfort for him.

I recognized these feelings of physical attraction and maybe even lust, but even more so of wanting to just be there for him. Seeing him hurt actually made me hurt a bit too. It was odd and I didn't quite understand it, but I could accept it.

He smiled back. "Hey, Bella. Thanks for having me over."

"It's cool." I frowned, wondering if he thought I didn't usually like being around him. "We're always at Alice's, so you know, I figured we could use a change of pace."

Once I'd served dinner we moved to the living room, the only place with enough space to accommodate us all. Alice and I had blown right through our bottle Riesling and decided to hound the boys to share their twelve pack of Sierra Nevada. Kate and Charlotte joined us soon after, and before long we were a loud and rowdy lot, eating and drinking and being proverbially merry.

Every now and then I glanced at Edward, just to make sure he was doing alright. He seemed fine, a little more quiet than usual, but fine. When my roommates retired and Jasper turned the TV on, I tapped Edward's hand lightly.

"I wanted to show you something."

"Okay." He rose from his seat and followed me to my room.

Heart pounding, I quickly unearthed the photos of him and handed them over. He'd probably think I was a stalker, that my aloofness since we'd reunited had all been an act.

He frowned, looking closely at each photograph, careful to hold them by the edges.

"When was this?"

"About a month ago," I said. "Before it got too cold."

"Hm. I think I remember that day, actually."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." His eyes twinkled as he looked up. "I didn't know I was being watched."

"I didn't know you were there at first," I shot back, trying to keep it playful. "But, you, like, blended in with the leaves and all, so, I just… wanted to capture that."

"My mom would love these," he said, smiling.

"That's exactly what Alice said," I laughed.

I took a step back then, feeling the familiar tension thicken between us. I wasn't sure what I wanted, but I didn't feel ready. For anything. "Anyway, you can take them. I have a set for myself."

_Nice, Bella. Because you didn't look obsessed before._

But he didn't seem to notice, or care. Nodding again, he tucked the photos beneath his arm and we left my room.

On the couch, I returned to my original spot, but Edward didn't. He sat right next to me, so close our thighs were touching.

"Here's a blanket," Alice said sweetly, not even looking as she tossed one up from her place on the carpet.


	19. Chapter 19

_Disclaimer: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization. _

* * *

My coffee was still too hot.

Wincing at the burn on my tongue, I set the steaming cup back down to let it cool off.

Bella was staring out the window by our table, her mittened hands wrapped securely around her own cup. She'd cut the fingertips off of the mittens. She was quiet today, sad almost.

I let her be, figuring she'd talk if she wanted.

The shift had been so gradual. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't notice it, though. That's a bunch of bull. Of course I noticed we spent more and more time together, after classes and after work. That we no longer needed Alice and Jasper as buffers to have dinner.

And yet there was a line we had yet to cross.

Because… we weren't like other twosomes. We couldn't really drift into anything romantic. If we decided to go there it would be just that - a decision. No grey area. My mistake in high school had been allowing there to be a grey area. It had been her mistake, too.

At least she'd made her mistake out of a misguided sense of love, though. I'd made mine out of my inability to cope with anything.

Bella took a tentative sip of her coffee, and her eyes drifted over to mine.

"What?" she said, making this weird face where her mouth was smiling but her forehead was wrinkled, like she was really frowning.

"You're sad today," I observed, attempting another sip of my coffee.

She looked down, licking her lips absently. "When are you heading back home?"

"Home-home? Forks?"

She nodded, not looking at me.

"My last class is Thursday, so, probably that night."

"You're driving home at night?" she asked, looking up.

"Yeah." I shrugged. "So? When are you heading back?"

"I don't know yet. Friday maybe… or Saturday," she sighed.

"Did you want to drive up together?" I asked.

She reddened slightly. "Can't. I have class Friday morning."

"So I'll wait."

"Why would you do that?"

She seemed so put out and a stab of irritation flared through me, as it often did when she was being ambiguous. I rolled my eyes and stood, startling her.

"I'll talk to you later," I said, wiggling my hands back into my gloves.

Flustered, she stood too. "What? Why are you leaving?

"I asked you a simple question: do you want to ride home with me. It's yes or no, Bella. Feel free to go by yourself," I said, trying really hard to keep my voice even.

"Fine, I'll go with you!" she said, her eyes narrowing. "I was just surprised; I don't know… where are you going?"

"Home," I said, pulling my hat back on, too.

She fell in to step with me, leaving her coffee behind. "You don't have to be so moody," she huffed.

"You don't have to be so suspicious," I countered.

"What do you mean, suspicious?" She glared at me.

We crossed the street and hurried down the sidewalk, shivering in the lightly falling snow.

"I mean, you seem to question my motives a lot. After all this time, I'd hope you would trust me. What are you afraid of? Me ravaging you in the back seat of my car?" I laughed.

She blushed and looked away, wrapping her arms around her body tighter. In her haste to follow me out of the café, she hadn't properly buttoned her coat.

"Sometimes it's hard for me to reconcile the person you are with the person you were," she said eventually. "You used to get annoyed when I came around…can you really blame me for wondering what's so different now?

My chest squeezed uncomfortably, because she was right. And she was wrong. "Everything's different," I muttered.

My house came into view and I fished my keys from my pocket.

We walked in silence 'till we came to the front door, which I unlocked as quickly as I could so we could escape the bitter cold.

"Sorry," she murmured, touching my arm.

"I'm sorry you feel that way…I know, I know that I hurt you – but I could hardly take care of myself back then, let alone take care of you the way I should've been doing. I guess I hoped by now you'd see I'm not that way anymore," I said, slipping my gloves and coat off.

"I do see that," Bella said. "I'd like to ride with you, thank you."

Bella had driven over earlier, but now the snow was falling again and the road was a little icy in places. I didn't feel one hundred percent comfortable letting her drive home.

"You want to watch TV till it calms down out there?" I asked, flipping on the lights as I walked into the living room.

"Okay," she said. "Is that new?"

I looked around to see where she was looking. "What?"

"That mirror on the wall. Is it…pewter?"

I walked over to it, nodding. "Alice found it at some antique shop downtown. She and mom are really into old school stuff like that, buying, restoring… this whole apartment's their work."

"It's gorgeous," Bella breathed, gazing at the details in the frame.

I was used to it. It was nice, but, whatever. I guess having an interior decorator for a mother inured you to these sorts of things.

"Yeah," I shrugged, watching her in the reflection. Her eyes flickered to mine and she smiled.


	20. Chapter 20

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

* * *

I am definitely nervous about the four hour drive home.

As he's promised, Edward arrives at my front door right before noon, his raincoat shiny and slick with rainfall.

"Ugh, again? It was snow last night…" I say, standing aside to let him in.

"And now it's sleet," he says dryly, standing right inside the door. "Do you need help with anything?"

"Uh…no. I'm just making sure everything is situated. Kate leaves tomorrow, so she'll really lock up but...you know," I call from my room, tugging at the corner of my bedspread.

When there's nothing left for me to obsess and nitpick over, I loop my arms through the straps of the bags I will be living out of for the next almost-month and join Edward by the front door.

"Ready?" he asks, reaching for a bag.

"Yeah." I nod, allowing him to help me.

We trade dry warmth for cold wet, walking briskly to his car.

"What're you going to do when you come back?" Edward asks, putting the heat on full blast. "About your truck?"

"I don't know… it ran perfectly for so long I don't really know who to call now that it's acting up. Jacob used to take care of it …but…I can't ask him. You know," I ramble, sticking my hands between my thighs to keep them warm.

"Mmm," he says, seemingly neither here nor there.

"Do you…know him?"

"Jacob?" he adjusts the heat vent so it's not blowing directly on him.

"Yeah."

"Sort of." We're at a stop light now, and he looks at me. "He played ball for La Push, right?"

"Oh… yeah, he did," I remember, smiling a little. Jacob is good at any and every sport, so it's not surprising Edward remembers him that way.

We drive in silence for awhile, sound and movement limited to the swish-swash of the windshield wipers and the harsh hush of the heater.

Minutes after we hit I-5, I'm asleep.

* * *

"Bella," Edward's voice coaxes me back. He looks a little amused, and I touch my mouth to make sure I wasn't drooling or something while asleep.

"I'm getting coffee – you want anything?" he offers, halfway out of the car.

"Coffee's good," I agree. "Actually, I'll just come with you."

I like road trips, even short ones like the one we're on. There's this sort of undercurrent of excitement in places like this – airports, rest stops; you're going somewhere. Edward goes straight for the coffee machine as I wander around the store looking at maps and magnets. The clerk, an idle girl doing what looks like Sudoku, perks up when she sees Edward approaching the counter. I almost feel bad for her; even though I know my pity is condescending in a way. I wouldn't want to be stuck here, in this place, day in and day out.

Back in the car, we sit for a moment, sipping coffee and people watching.

"Do your parents know I'm driving you in?" Edward asks as he pulls back on to the interstate.

"Yeah," I say. "How do you feel about going back?" He hasn't been back in years, only once since leaving high school. I always thought that seemed a bit drastic, but I guess he has his reasons.

"Looking forward to it. You?"

"I'm excited to see my parents, but…not gonna lie, I hope I don't see Jake. This is the first Christmas we haven't been together," I admit.

"Awkward," he says, without a lick of compassion.

I frown and return my gaze to the countryside flying past. "Very."

Eventually we're home. Forks looks even tinier than usual, after being in such a big city for so long. Edward walks me to my door, helping me carry bags inside, braving the excitement of my mother.

He kisses my cheek before leaving, a first. "We'll hang out tonight," he says over his shoulder, walking back to his car.

* * *

_i got famouslyso to make me a banner for Curtains! it's on my profile (please go look! it's so pretty!) and i PROMISE this link works. in fact, they all do; if you haven't yet seen the banners for Voliiton or With or Without You, they're there. 3 _


	21. Chapter 21

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization. _

* * *

Yawning, I hand Renee the last of our dinner plates to scrape, rinse, and put into the dishwasher.

"Tired, sweetie?" she runs water over the dishes, the slight glaze in her eyes telling of her own exhaustion.

"A little… I don't know why. All I did was sit around today," I say, washing my hands.

"Traveling takes a lot out of you," she agrees.

"Yeah, Seattle to Forks is quite the journey." I smile, rolling my eyes a bit.

She glances over, grinning as she swats at me with a dish towel. "Smart alec."

The digital clock on the stove catches my eye; 7:30. "Actually, Mom, I'm going to take a quick shower."

"Okay…or you could take a bath you know. That's a good way to unwind."

I shake my head. "Nah, Edward's picking me up soon."

She looks up at me, surprise glimmering across her face. "Oh, I didn't realize-"

"Nope. Not like that," I interrupt, knowing I am full of it. "Just hanging out."

"Hmm." She leans over to pour detergent into the dishwasher.

I roll my eyes again, not so amused this time. There's nothing like coming home and being beneath your parent's roof to make you feel like a kid again.

My hair is still wet when Edward comes. I don't really care what it looks like, really, but the temperature has dropped outside.

Alright, I do care. But the cold is the main reason.

"Hey," I say, opening the door.

"Hey." His gaze is rather intense, his hands are in his pockets.

"Come in for a sec, I need to dry my hair some more."

"Okay." Shrugging, he follows me upstairs.

In my room, I start the hairdryer again, pulling my brush swiftly through my hair. I watch in the mirror as Edward wanders around, examining my pictures and books.

"What did you want to do tonight?" I ask, turning off the dryer and sweeping my hair into a ponytail.

"There's a bonfire at La Push. Alice and Jasper are going," he says.

My stomach bottoms out. "Oh."

He frowns. "What?"

"What if Jake's there?" I ask, zipping my purse.

"What if he is?" Edward sounds irritated.

"You're right," I sigh. "Let's just go."

"What else is there to do, Bella? We're in Forks for God's sake," he grumbles.

"I said fine. Don't get all pissy."

We are quiet in the car. If we get this snippy as friends, I shudder to think what we'd be like as a couple.

Still, I can't quite lie to myself. Being around Edward has always made me _feel_ – even when he's made me feel awful.

Lately though, he doesn't make me feel awful.

He makes me feel anxious in the best of ways.

We stop at the store for a six pack and snacks before continuing on to La Push. The parking area near the beach is already full, which is reassuring because while Jake probably will be there, so will everyone else. Christmas break brings everyone home.

Somehow, almost without me really realizing, Edward and I have become a unit. It is a natural progression in Seattle, where we live in a separate little bubble, but back in Forks, I feel much more exposed. Tremors of nervousness quiver through me and I wondered irrationally if he will buckle under the pressure and back off.

What if being home is toxic, and makes him act the way he used to? Worse, what if I start acting how I used to?

But I will try my best not to worry. We carry the beer and food over to a group of coolers pushed together.

"Bella, hey!" I look up at the familiar voice.

"Hi, Tyler," I smile, hugging him lightly. He grins and greets Edward before moving on. And then it all falls in to place - left and right we see people we know, that know us too. Sipping my beer, I begin to relax, because actually… this is really fun. I can't say it reminds me of high school, because that part of my life is difficult and riddled with painful memories, but I can appreciate this for what it is.

It is good to be home. I belong in this place.

Jasper and Alice catch up to us and we settle onto a blanket near the fire, appreciative of the warmth and light.

Someone offers Edward a hit of their joint, and I automatically stiffen. I'm not opposed to pot, but I choose not to smoke it myself. I am also apprehensive about Edward doing it. I don't want him being weird and receding into himself, or bursting into a flame of faux cheer, chatting my ear off with stoney stories.

"Nah, it's cool," he says, shaking his head. Our eyes meet and I smile, looking down at my lap.

"You're funny," he chuckles.

"Why?" I peek at him.

"You're all concerned…"

I nod, blushing. It's true; I am.

He puts his hand on my knee and my heart skips a beat.

Someone sits down on the other side of me, slightly shoving me. "Sorry," they say, loud and ripe with rum.

Wrinkling my nose, I look at Edward, who shifts over and, without asking, pulls me so I'm sitting between his legs.

He doesn't ask if it's okay because he knows it is.

My heart beats loud and fast, and I move my hair to the side so it's not in his face. He curves his body around mine, resting his chin on my shoulder.

I want to tell him what I think and how I feel, that even when I hated him I loved him and now that I like him I love him even more. I can't though, not yet. Maybe never.

Dreamy and dazed, I stare into the fire, shivering when his cold nose nuzzles my neck.

My eyes focus, and the lightness in my belly turns heavy, as if a brick has been dropped into it.

Jake is sitting directly across from us, his eyes incredulous and narrowed in hurt.


	22. Chapter 22

All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

* * *

He's staring at me so intently, his eyes burning brighter than the yellow orange flames licking and reaching between us, that I close my eyes and instinctively cower further into Edward.

Which is probably not the right thing to do; I want my actions to truthful, not byproducts of fear or out of control feelings.

Realizing I have closed the physical distance between myself and the boy whose arms around me I freeze, panicking for a second. We are still dancing the fence, and I can't be the one to give in first. It isn't that I want to play games – I want anything but. It's just… the ball is in his court, whether he knows it or not.

But then I feel his lips at my neck again, soft, fleeting, enough to send an ache through the pit of my stomach and lower to the deepest part of me. Involuntarily, I look back at Jake, but he's gone and why wouldn't he be? Why sit around and watch while your ex gets close with someone else? Anxiety and guilt pepper my mood, and I wonder whether I should try and talk to him or just let it go.

"Bella?" Alice's voice is soft, apologetic.

I look over at her. "Yeah?"

"I know you just got comfortable, but I really need to pee. Will you come with me?" she asks sheepishly.

Edward leans away from me, taking his warmth with him.

"Of course," I say, climbing to my feet.

I can't even look at Edward just yet; it's so new, so fragile. I'm still so nervous around him sometimes, especially now that the wall of self protection I'd built between the years is down.

Alice and I walk far down the beach, and I wait while she relieves herself behind a large piece of driftwood.

"Do you need to go?" she calls, her voice drifting over.

"Nah." I shiver, rubbing my hands briskly together.

She rejoins me and we half run back, giddy with the feel of being outside at night.

Jake is standing with a group of his friends, and it looks like they are about to leave. I tug at Alice's sweatshirt, and she turns, her eyes wide with question.

"I'm gonna, um, I'm gonna go talk to Jake real quick. I haven't seen him in ages," I say, my heart hammering.

"Okay," she says, squeezing my hand before leaving me on my own.

Jake's friend Sam sees me first. I see him say something and then Jake turns around, his hands dug deep in his pockets.

"Hi," I greet him breathlessly, my stomach coiled in knots.

He nods, gazing down at me. "Hi, Bella."

"How've you been?" I ask, tucking my hair behind my ear.

He exhales and laughs a little, looking down at the ground. "Really? This is what we're talking about?"

He's not angry, but so hurt and I swallow back the lump that is forming in my throat. "I miss you, is all. I wanted to see how you were."

"I emailed you just the other day," he says.

"That was like, a month ago," I frown. "Anyway, I-"

"So, looks like you've really found your little niche in Seattle," he interrupts, cocking his head as his eyes find mine. "Isn't that Edward Cullen? And his sister?"

"You know Alice," I sigh. "She's one of my best friends."

"I thought you hated him," he says gently. It's like we're having two conversations at once.

"I … did. But, it's different now, he-"

"Obviously." He smirks, wiping a hand across his face.

"Are you going to let me explain, or are you going to keep cutting me off?" I ask, trying hard not to let my exasperation bubble over. He has every right to be hurt, but we've been broken up for months and months.

Jake steps back, shaking his head. "Bella, I don't want to fight with you. I know you're happy now, and I'm glad. But please don't make me talk about it. I just can't yet, okay? You've got a good thing, a good life, and that's great. Just… let me be for awhile. I'm not ready for this."

"I'm sorry," I say, trying not to cry.

"I know," he nods. "Me too. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"Okay," I say, but he's already walking away.

Taking a deep breath, I turn back toward the fire, deciding to grab another beer first. I take two, and return to Edward, who is sitting cross legged, picking at the hem of his jeans.

"Thanks" he says, taking the beer I offer.

"Sure." I sit beside him, cold and aware the moment we had is gone now.

"Is he okay?" Edward gazes into the fire, rolling the bottle between his palms.

"Not really."

"Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine." I swallow down the rest of my beer and rest the bottle in the sand.

* * *

In the car, I want to tell Edward I'm not ready to go home. He drives slowly, tapping his fingers along to the music.

He turns down my street and my hands get clammy. It's sort of a now or never moment for me.

"I don't want to go home yet," I blurt urgently.

He slows the car, looking at me like I'm slightly nuts. "Okay…"

We continue on past my house and down the rest of the street, and then back downtown, meandering through the silent streets. There really is nowhere to go; it is, after all, midnight in Forks.

I'm not surprised when he pulls up to his house and cuts the engine. "Do you want to go in for a while?"

I nod, opening my door.

It's been a long time since I've stepped foot in this house, but it looks and smells the same, making me feel both nostalgic and nervous. I follow Edward up the stairs, wondering what it is we're really doing, wondering how many girls have followed him these same stairs this same way.

He shuts his bedroom door behind us and then puts on music, and I drop my bag and walk to the window, my eyes burning because he's still got those ivory curtains. It's too cold out, so the window is closed, but I remember the way these curtains looked when they blew, gauzy and dreamy and soft.

Edward tugs my jacket off and turns me around, his eyes fixed on my mouth.

"I really want to kiss you."

"Okay," I whisper, waiting.

He comes closer and kisses my mouth a few times, and I put my hands in his hair the way I've always wanted to. He holds my face and kisses me harder, his tongue and mine sliding together, and I like the roughness of his chin.


	23. Chapter 23

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization. _

* * *

I should've brought tissues.

For now, the sleeve of my thermal will have to do. I've sneezed about twelve times since Renee sent me into the attic to locate an extra box of Christmas lights she'd purchased last year. One of the sets circling our tree just blew out, and instead of screwing around with each light, she trashed the whole thing.

So here I am, dusty and sneezy. Sounds like two of Snow White's Seven.

But thank God for small favors; at least the light up here works. It's a bare bulb hanging from a chain, very attic-light traditional, and while its light is sparse it allows me to see where I'm going.

The lights are not where my mother said they would be, but upon further inspection I spy them in a far off corner. After opening the box to make sure they are in fact inside, I start to make my way toward the stairs when another, larger box catches my eye. I remember this box from childhood, with its rusted lock and peeling overlay. It's more of a trunk, really, sort of a catch-all for souvenirs and memories.

Kneeling, I tug the neck of my shirt over my nose to prevent further dust inhalation and open the box. There are albums and loose pictures scattered throughout, ticket stubs and middle school awards and preschool paintings. I gingerly pick up one of the albums and start to thumb through it, my heart quickening because I know Rose is in it.

I am at the point in my life where I can think of her without crying, where the memories are as sweet as they are bitter. She's not perfect in my memories, but she's my sister, and I love her now as much as I always have. Still, seeing her in these pictures, her smile so radiant, so Rose, and all the things she loved to do… it's a little hard and Christmas makes me sentimental as it is.

A few tears slip down my face as I look at this abbreviated sampling of her life, mostly from when we were little. The next album is more recent, and when I see a picture of her with Emmett I know I need to put it all away. Their destinies were wrapped up in one another, in ways they'd never imagined, and I choose to believe that wherever they are, they're together.

Unlike my mother, I no longer believe they are of this world or this time.

And that's that.

One picture slips from the album as I set it down, and I hold it up to the light, smiling when I see it. It's a close up of Rose and me, our faces pressed together, at the beach. We were golden that summer, tanned by the sun and glowing from hours spent outside. It's one of the few pictures where our resemblance is apparent and I slide it into my back pocket, keeping it.

* * *

My parents insist, rather patronizingly, that I invite Edward over for dinner as a "friend", knowing damn well he's more and that I refuse to comment on it.

If they are surprised that he and I are seeing one another, they don't show it, and the meal is mellow and comfortable, with no shortage of conversation.

Edward asks if I want to go for a drive afterwards; I suspect he just wants to get me alone. So I say yes, obviously, and he follows me up the staircase so he can sit and watch while I bundle up for the cold night.

I like when he watches me.

Tonight though he is drawn to the picture on my dresser, the one of Rose and I the summer I was twelve and she was just-fifteen.

I am unprepared for the bitter thump in my chest and I turn away, focusing instead on zipping my coat and wrapping my scarf.

He doesn't say anything for a long time and I wish he would, wish he'd just spit out whatever's on his mind. It hangs between us like a poisonous cloud, this connection, this remembering, and I realize I'm a fool to think we can move past it completely.

Even if I can, he can't.

Eventually I turn to him, and he's leaning against the wall now, the picture back on the dresser.

Watching me.

"What?" I ask, a little harsher than I should.

"You look so much like her," he says quietly.

"How convenient for you." I stand very still, feeling a little frozen.

He frowns, looking at his feet. "It's not like that. The way I feel for her is nothing like how I feel for you."

"Oh, I know. You let me know that from the get-go." I sit on the edge of my bed, putting my fingers to my mouth so I can blow warm air on them.

I wish I'd left at least one pair of my mittens with the fingertips still intact.

Eventually I look up at him and he shakes his head, moving to sit beside me. "I guess I deserve that." His voice trembles as he speaks and it scares me, because I've seen Edward do a lot of things but I've never, ever seen him cry.

"I don't think I was ever as angry as I was back then. I hope I never am again. Even thinking about it hurts," he says, his eyes on his hands.

"Maybe you _need_ to think about it," I say. "Maybe that will help you move on… it helped me. I mean, I'll never get over it, but I can-"

"I went to therapy too, Bella," he interrupted. "For a long time. What I mean is I don't like thinking about how I felt during that time. How I acted."

He rests his hand on my thigh, still not looking at me. His hands are somehow very warm, and I wish I could hold them.

"You were like, in love with Rosalie," I whisper.

"No, I had a crush on her. I'm in love with you."

My heart plummets and I sort of gape at him, completely caught off guard. I know our feelings have always run deep, but this… this is not what I was expecting him to say at all.

"I think… you used to love me," he continues hesitantly.

I chew the inside of my cheek anxiously, nodding. "I think I did."

He squeezes my leg and stands up, pulling me along with him. "Ready to go?"

"Mhm."

My heart skips a beat, my stomach flutters. He seems calm now, lighter, like he's happy he got things off his chest or something. I marvel at where we are today, how much things have changed since last we were in Forks together.

"Bella?"

I blink, realize I'm standing still, like a zombie. "Sorry. I'm kind of in shock by what you said." I smile weakly.

"I'm kind of in shock I said it too," he says, coming back and standing really close to me. He reaches out and touches my hair, bringing it to his face so he can sniff it.

"Weirdo," I laugh, hugging him. The tension breaks and I realize this is the most secure and comfortable I have ever felt with him.

And it feels really good.

"I'm a little in love with you too," I whisper, right in his ear.

He kisses me, playfully but also suggestively, like he's telling me without words what he wants to do.


	24. Chapter 24

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization. _

* * *

So, I love her.

Even as I want to consume her, and slide into her, fold myself over her and escape inside her til I forget who I am, I do in fact… love her. She's been patient with me, maybe even when her love for me had all but been smothered, letting me feel what I feel.

Even in the car I peek at her sideways, watching as she gazes out the window, smiling sometimes. Without looking she reaches for my hand and I give it to her, unfamiliar but really enjoying these feelings.

There's something about Bella that whispers "long-term" to me, and I try to push it away, not because the idea of commitment frightens me, but because I want to take this day by day. In order to really let this happen, to let it breathe, to make it work, it needs to be free of expectations.

She glances at me with one of her blushy smiles.

Yeah, right. I have expectations.

Both the forever kind and the kind that make me wish it was acceptable to pull the car to the side of the road, lower her seat and have her with the shadows and trees as our witnesses.

"Where are we going?" Bella asks, her thumbnail scratching softly on my palm.

"I don't know." I shrug, squinting at the road. "I'm just in the mood to drive."

"If it wasn't so cold we could go somewhere to watch the stars," she says wistfully, looking outside once more.

"We could still do that."

"Yeah, but it's not the same when you're inside the car."

"No, I guess it's not," I concede.

Ten minutes later I pull up to my house.

"Really, Edward?" She laughs softly.

"What?" I think it would probably be very gentlemanly to open her door for her, but she's already out.

"You just want to get me back in your room," she teases, and I know she's thinking of the past few nights, when we've kissed for the better parts of hours.

"True. But have faith," I say, leading the way inside the door and up the stairs.

I take her past the door to my room to the end of the hall, and then up the next flight of stairs.

"What's in the attic?" she asks, her voice floating behind me in the almost-silence like it's not attached to her.

"Probably the same stuff that's in your attic." I pause on the landing. "This is the third floor. The attic is further up."

"I didn't know you had a third floor," she says, and I know she's frowning, her forehead all wrinkled as she tries to remember.

"Alice and I played up here a lot when we were really little." I switch the light on as we enter the room. "Mom was using it as storage space until last spring when she redid it as a guest room."

It's nice up here, soothing greens and grays and blues, different the rest of the house with its cooler colors. Its windows face the back, looking toward the woods behind the house, the wide expanse of sky stretched over it. Set up at the window is the telescope Garrett and Kate gave me as a graduation gift. I'd practically become nature boy up there in the Alaskan wilderness, hiking and camping and stargazing. Many a night had found me out on the porch, one or twins spilled across my lap, watching the endless cascade of stars and occasional comet.

Forks is just as majestic at certain times of year, especially winter when it is cold and clear and crisp.

I peer through the lens, adjusting it so I can see, and then draw Bella closer.

"Wow," she breathes, holding the telescope gently with both hands. "It's…"

I flop back onto the bed, pleasantly surprised by the down bedding beneath me, and watch her watch the stars.

"The sky resembles a back lit canopy with holes punched in it." I kick my sneakers off. They land with muted thumps on the rug beside the bed.

Bella turns to me, smiling as she walks over. "It really does… and, I love that song."

"So do I."

It's cold up here; maybe central heating doesn't reach quite this far, and she shivers as she sits.

I get up and peel the blankets back, then get under, pulling her with me. She resists, leaning over to unzip her boots, and then lays down, facing me on her side.

"I knew it," she smirks. "You just wanted to get me in bed."

"We looked at the stars, didn't we?" I twirl a piece of her hair in my fingers.

"Mhm." She scoots closer and kisses me.

I kiss her, easing my body onto hers, finding my place between her thighs.

Previous thoughts aside, it wasn't even my intention to love her right here in this bed but it's impossible to maintain the same level of low intensity when your heart is racing and your dick is throbbing and the girl you've chose has chosen you, and she's beneath you now, moaning and whispering that she really does love you.

I work her jeans off, starting at the waist and tugging at the knees and frayed hems; girls wear such tight pants. Kneeling on the bed, I shrug my jacket off and hook my fingers around the neck of my t-shirt, pulling it off. Bella stares at me like she's never seen me without a shirt, and I wonder if maybe she never has.

I know I've never seen her without her shirt, though, and I pull her up to sitting, wasting no time in helping her get her shirt off, liking the way her hair gets messy, dark brown shine in the light. She has a front hook bra, which is nice, and I watch as she lies back against the pillows, opening it with both hands. I pull it off of her all the way, and let my lips go where my eyes want them to, rewarded by her hands in my hair and her legs around my hips.

Like a flower I open her, petal by petal, just as pretty, just as soft. I won't go slow when she lets me inside, but I can go slow now, knowing after this the _then_ will be over and we'll be forever in the _now_.

* * *

_*Incubus - "I Wish You Were Here"_


	25. Chapter 25

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization. _

* * *

Like a little girl I sit enraptured by the spectacle before me, wide eyed as another bolt of lightning torches the horizon, blue fire on black water, illuminating the dwindling twilight.

"Oooh."

Edward shifts behind me, his hand tickling my hip. "That was a good one."

"Yeah, it was." I shiver a little, and he adjusts the heat in the car, turning it up a little higher.

There is no one up here but us. We have the best seats in the house, front row to nature's light show. A strong gust of wind picks up, shaking Edward's car like the Incredible Hulk as it passes by.

He looks at me in exaggerated concern and I laugh, loving it.

Loving him.

"Maybe we should go before we get blown into the water," I say, reaching for my hoodie, which is caught between the console and the driver's seat.

"Nope." He maneuvers me down, onto the backseat that is still slick from our sweat.

"Making up for lost time?" I tease, letting him arrange my arms and legs in the cramped space. Last time I did something like this somewhere like this I didn't even like the person. It was stilted and awkward and dirty and weird.

But this… this is normal and natural and sacred and sweet.

Earlier in he day he'd let me in on his backseat fantasies and I was more than happy to oblige - after all, I've wanted him for so, so long and it doesn't matter where.

It's odd when you meet someone and they are a certain way, and they change, and you realize the person you knew is not who they ever really were. As for me, I feel I'm fully me again, and not the girl-who-lost-her-self.

The years of disconnect between Edward and me served a greater purpose, letting each of us heal without the hindrance of the other. Ironically it's Edward who believes more in fate now - I believe in choices - but when it comes down to it, it's fairly obvious we are supposed to do this, to be this way.

Edward slides my behind to the edge of the seat and kneels on the floor, lowering his face between my legs.

"Maybe this isn't the best car for this," I say, catching my fingers in his hair.

He ignores me, licking his tongue in circles and swipes until I shake, and then he is inside me, even as I come.

Because we did it in the front seat less than an hour before, it takes longer this time and I'm almost sore by the time he finishes. But it's the kind of sore I like, that will make me think of this every time I sit a certain way or when I'm in the shower later.

A startling too-close flash of light makes all things bright and I tighten involuntarily around him, hands gripping arms and feet dug into thighs.

"Sorry," I whisper-giggle, heart pounding.

He leans up, grinning down at me in the almost-dark. "Getting kinda spooky out here."

"I liked it earlier, when the storm was just coming in." I touch his face, completely liquid on the inside.

I never, ever want this to end or fade, which is scary and makes me vulnerable because I _know_ what it's like to be disappointed and left behind.

But lucky for me, Edward does too. Strange how the things that hurt us the most have bound us together and somehow in a way that's good, like we've escaped the cloud but clung to its silver lining.

He leans down and kisses me again, his hair tickling my forehead.

Tomorrow we drive back to Seattle.

* * *

Edward does not have curtains in his apartment; he has blinds, long and vertical, nicer than mine back in Forks. His new bedroom window faces east, and in the morning buttery light melts through the slats in narrow streams, gold lines across dark sheets.

Awake first, I yawn and stretch, letting my toes touch his leg. I know that when he wakes, he will come to me, and touch me, because we are still at the point where we want each other all the time.

But for now I enjoy the quiet, the full feeling of being wanted and loved and safe in this bed.

His bed.

* * *

_end. _

_thank you for the awesome comments and reviews. love._


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